Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 217 Both Sides Are Panicking
After leaving the command post, Morin rode his horse slowly along the night road.

The summer night breeze on his face gradually calmed his head, which had been feverish with excitement.

His actions just now were entirely impulsive.

But once the thought pops into your head, you can't suppress it anymore.

If I could truly change the messenger's fate, and make him pick up a paintbrush again instead of a butcher's knife...
Does that mean that the future of this world will never again see a global catastrophe like that?
This world already has a powerful, even more corrupt, version of Great Britain. If a Third Reich were to emerge, it would be beyond saving, and life would be unbearable.

However, Morin thought about it again and realized that this matter couldn't be solved simply by securing a mustache's 'future employment'; there were many other people involved behind the scenes.

Therefore, fundamentally speaking, if we want to avoid the 'bad trend' from happening...
"We absolutely cannot lose that first battle, damn it!"

When Morin rushed back to the training assault battalion's temporary base, Kleist had already arranged the routine matters—the battalion adjutant was impeccable in these support tasks.

The soldiers of the training assault battalion, apart from the sentries on duty, were resting and cleaning their weapons in their respective tents.

As soon as Morin entered the camp, he immediately found Kleist and Manstein.

"Battalion Commander, is there any new order from the Army Group Command?" Kleist greeted him.

"The situation is complicated and urgent."

Without wasting any words, Morin conveyed the command's orders concisely and clearly.

"Send us to instruct other units on digging trenches?" Kleist and Manstein were both taken aback.

"That's right, and they started working overnight."

Morin nodded, then continued:
"If I had to put it in perspective, this is truly an unprecedented undertaking, and it is also the first step in determining the success or failure of our next attack on Amiens."

He glanced at his watch—the one Cecilia had given him before the war—and continued:

"Time is running out. Pass down the order immediately! Have the four company commanders assemble and start assigning tasks as soon as possible."

"Yes, battalion commander!"

Soon, the four company commanders jogged to Morin's command tent.

Morin pointed to a simple map and gave a rough description of the troop deployment.

The forces launching the frontal attack consisted of two corps and one combat group, totaling eight divisions.

However, in reality, only four divisions were capable of launching offensives on the front line, while the remaining four divisions served as reinforcements and reserves.

Morin clearly divided the defense zones of the four divisions responsible for the main attack, and then assigned the four companies of the training assault battalion to them one by one.

"Klaus, you'll lead a company, responsible for training the 8th Infantry Division, which is also one of our old units."

"Wolf, you take the 2nd Company to the 2nd Guards Infantry Division."

"Jonas and Steiner, you take the Third and Fourth Companies and go to the Fifth Division and the Fifth Reserve Division respectively."

"Your task is not only to instruct them on how to dig, but more importantly, to teach them how to conduct rapid and covert operations right under the enemy's nose!"

"Tell them to control the noise, and that the excavated soil should not be piled up randomly, but packed into sacks and transported to the rear!"

"No reflective items allowed! During the operation, no one is allowed to speak, smoke, or make any unnecessary noise!"

Morin emphasized the key points from the Imperial Army's Earthwork Operations Manual once again.

"The most important point!"

Morin emphasized, adding very seriously:
"Tell your platoon leaders and sergeants to open their eyes wider! We're going there to be teachers, not supervisors!"

"We must lead by example and earn the respect and trust of our allies through our professionalism and actions! Anyone who dares to put on airs or act arrogantly over there, don't blame me for eating them like a pork knuckle when I get back!"

"Yes, Battalion Commander!" the four company commanders replied in unison, their faces showing a hint of excitement.

It is the duty and honor of the training assault battalion to pass on the military skills it has mastered to its friendly forces.

"Alright, everyone go and get ready. Once you're ready, set off!"

At Morin's command, the soldiers of the training assault battalion quickly assembled in company and platoon units, collected their tools, and then silently disappeared into the night, heading to their respective 'teaching posts'.

Exactly twelve o'clock midnight.

The fields and wilderness north of Amiens were deathly silent.

Suddenly, about 1.5 kilometers from the Brittany's defensive line, countless dark figures, as if emerging from the ground, silently appeared.

No one was wearing a helmet. Except for the soldiers on guard duty, everyone else had their rifles slung over their backs and were holding the entrenching tools that had been distributed in large quantities before the battle.

The four Saxon infantry divisions responsible for the main frontal assault deployed a total of nearly 15,000 soldiers for this large-scale earthwork operation, which was carried out simultaneously along this front line that stretched for several kilometers.

At first, the scene was somewhat chaotic.

Many soldiers who were participating in this kind of 'earthwork operation in front of the enemy' for the first time were so nervous that they were flustered.

Some accidentally knocked their shovels together, some didn't know where to put the dug soil, and some were so nervous that they couldn't even hold the shovel steady.

"Don't panic! Listen to the command!"

"Keep your movements quiet! Do you want the other side to hear you?"

At times like these, the instructors from the training assault battalion play a crucial role in maintaining stability.

They were like experienced masters, teaching these 'apprentices' step by step.

"Hold the shovel with both hands, with your front hand gripping about one-third of the way from the shovel head. This will ensure you have power and stability when operating it!"

"Keep your back straight and use the rotation of your body to drive your arms to swing the shovel, not just rely on the strength of your arms!"

"Put the excavated soil into this sack! Quickly! Once it's full, pass it on to the next person!"

Under the professional guidance and demonstration of the instructors and soldiers of the assault battalion, the chaos at the scene was quickly brought under control.

Fifteen thousand soldiers, divided into multiple attack positions along a front of more than ten kilometers, were deployed with astonishing efficiency in this unprecedented project.

Countless entrenching tools rose and fell silently.

Sacks filled with soil were silently passed to the rear through a human chain, and then piled up on top of the communication trenches and parallel trenches.

Moreover, this time, in accordance with the defense requirements for magic crystal cannons in the "Imperial Army Earthwork Operation Manual", individual anti-cannon shelters were built at intervals for soldiers to hide in.

There are also more top-mounted defensive structures made of wood and sandbags.

While it may not be very effective against direct bombardment of 'high-efficiency magic crystal cannonballs', it is sufficient to defend against the damage from 'fragmentation magic crystal cannonballs'.

For a moment, the whole scene appeared both grand and eerie.

More than 15,000 people carried out such a massive project in the silent darkness, yet made almost no extra sound.

Only the soft "thump-thump" sound of shovels cutting into the soil could be heard intermittently in the night wind. And less than 1.5 kilometers ahead, on the Britannian positions, the sentries were still pacing back and forth listlessly.

Unbeknownst to them, a massive project that could change the course of the war was quietly underway right before their eyes.

While the Saxons were enthusiastically carrying out their earthworks, an emergency pre-battle meeting was also being held at the headquarters of the Brittany Expeditionary Force in Amiens.

Marshal John French, Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force, stood solemnly before the map.

"Gentlemen, the main force of the Saxons is already at our gates. The upcoming battle will determine the fate of our expeditionary force, and even the entire Allied Powers, on the Western Front."

His gaze swept over every general and officer present.

"We have no way out. Amiens and the Somme are our last line of defense! We must hold this place at all costs to buy enough time for our reinforcements to arrive!"

"Once we lose the Somme defenses, the Saxon barbarians' iron hooves will march straight to Paris without any hindrance!"

"Then we've already lost half the war."

As Marshal John French spoke, his gaze fell upon a man among the attendees, dressed in a manner quite different from the other officers.

The man was wearing a dark mage's robe, embroidered with intricate magical runes in silver thread.

He looked quite old, with white hair and beard, but his eyes were exceptionally bright, and he held a staff made of white oak in his hand.

This man was none other than Preston Albert, a seventh-circle Evocation mage and one of the high-ranking mentors of the Highland Mage Corps, who was also the leader of the accompanying mage team sent by the Highland Mage Corps.

"Master Albert"

John French's tone carried a rare hint of respect.

"You and the eighteen highland mages you lead will be our most important asset in this battle."

Master Albert nodded slightly, his face expressionless.

“The Saxon armored airships are our greatest threat at present. Only you and other mages have the means to attack them.”

John French continued, "So I need you masters to focus your main attention on the skies once the battle begins, and restrict the movement of the Saxon armored airships as soon as possible."

"Please rest assured, Marshal."

Maestro Albert's voice, however, sounded very calm:
"The Highland Mage will never allow those ugly Saxon creations to run rampant in our skies."

"very good."

John French nodded, then brought up another problem that was troubling him.

"In addition, there is one more thing. According to the reports from the troops we withdrew from the front lines, as well as the intelligence we had previously gathered, it all points to one thing—the Teutonic Knights of the Saxons, their armored knights, are equipped with some kind of powerful new armor-piercing weapon."

"Our armored knights of the Garter Knights no longer have any advantage in their confrontation with them; in fact, they are completely at a disadvantage."

This news made the armored knight commander present turn extremely pale.

He couldn't help but think of the friendly forces that had been easily defeated by the Saxons during the retreat from Arras.

"Therefore, to deal with the Saxon army's massive armored cavalry force, we must also rely on the power of the mages."

John French turned his gaze back to Master Albert.

“Understood,” Master Albert replied simply.

John French then began to assign specific defensive tasks, and his plan was almost entirely consistent with Morin's previous assessment.

Only three divisions were deployed to defend the outer perimeter of northern Amiens.

If the defenses cannot be held, the troops will immediately withdraw into the city and destroy all the bridges over the Somme.

The focus of the battlefield shifted to urban warfare and positional warfare based on rivers.

After the war council concluded, Master Albert, along with several other high-ranking mages who had also attended, returned to their camp near the expeditionary force headquarters.

In this open space, a white marble archway stands out conspicuously.

This is one of the standard spell scrolls that the high-ranking instructors of the Highland Mage Order carry when they travel. The rest area constructed by the [Magic Duncan's Mansion] spell is also the residence of the accompanying mages.

Master Albert and the other mages walked straight through the archway and entered a space in another dimension.

Once everyone had entered, the archway closed and disappeared into thin air.

Upon entering the magnificent hall with its fresh and comfortable air, the enigmatic expression on Master Albert's face vanished instantly.

Instead, there was a deep sense of worry and tension.

"Master, how is it?" A young fifth-ring mage approached and asked anxiously.

"The situation is very bad."

Master Albert sighed and sat down on the sofa with a serious expression. A mage handed him a calming drink.

“If the outer defenses of Amiens cannot be held, John French’s plan is to have us fight the Saxons in the streets inside Amiens.”

"street fighting?!"

The other mages in the tent all changed their expressions instantly.

As noble spellcasters of the Holy Britannian Empire, they excel at using wide-area attack spells to devastate dense enemy forces on open battlefields.

Street fighting, that close-quarters combat in narrow streets and dilapidated buildings, was a nightmare for these 'turret-type' mages.
"Damn it, why is it street fighting again?" a mage couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

A shadow fell over everyone's hearts.

Just a few months ago, in the distant kingdom of Aragon, a brutal street battle that also took place in a city taught the mages of the Highland Mage Corps a lesson.

In that battle, which they thought they would one-sidedly crush their opponents, they lost a total of five highland mages.

It even includes a highly respected seventh-ring archmage, just like Master Albert!

After details of that battle spread within the Highland Mage Order, the shadow cast by it still looms over the hearts of every Highland Mage.

And now, it seems they are about to experience the taste of street fighting themselves?

"Things have come to this point, there's no turning back. Everyone, prepare well for tomorrow's battle."

Master Albert concluded, then his gaze swept over the other two seventh-ring mages.

"Let's focus our spell preparations tonight on targeting the Saxon armored airships."

"Yes, Master Albert."

(End of this chapter)