Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 253 The Beginning of Armor-Based Bullet Combat

After retreating to their own trenches, the first thing Morin did was to have Klaus inform the 1st Company of the Training Assault Battalion to temporarily withdraw from the battle and rest in place, awaiting his new orders.

What a joke! They know perfectly well that the First Army's current tactic for attacking enemy trenches is to fill them with oil and then send their own soldiers to their deaths.

That battalion commander is truly inhuman.
These young men in the training assault battalion are all his precious treasures, and he would be heartbroken if even one of them were missing.

"Klaus, go and call over the company commanders of the other three companies, as well as Kleist and Manstein."

While twisting the muddy hem of his uniform, Morin gave the order:

"Tell them about today's attack. The Gauls' positions are much tougher than we thought. Make sure they have a clear picture. I need to go to the First Army Headquarters."

"Yes, battalion commander."

Klaus responded and turned to relay the order.

Morin himself prepared to head to the First Army's headquarters—he needed to see General Mackensen and explain the true situation at the front and his own thoughts in person.

Given this relationship, there's no harm in using it.
It's better than letting the training assault battalion and the soldiers of the First Army continue to die needlessly in the mud of Krei.

He walked along the trench to the rear. The muddy, waterlogged trench was crowded with wounded soldiers and retreating soldiers. The air was filled with the smell of blood, gunpowder, and despair.

"This is trench warfare."

As Morin walked out of the last trench along the long trench, before he could find a vehicle to go to the rear, a Mercedes 1913 staff vehicle screeched to a halt in front of him.

Judging from the number on the car door, it appears to be a vehicle used by the army group command.

The car door opened, and a young liaison officer jumped out of the passenger seat. He was stunned for a moment when he saw Morin covered in mud, and then his face lit up with unexpected joy.

"Excuse me, are you Captain Friedrich Morin?"

"That's me." Morin was a little surprised; how did the people from the army group command find this place?

“Great! Captain Morin, General Mackensen wants to see you. Please come with me to headquarters immediately.” The liaison officer’s tone was urgent.

Morin was even more puzzled. He was just about to go to see General Mackensen, but he sent someone to find him first?
“Perfect timing, I was just planning to go see the general anyway.”

Without asking any further questions, Morin opened the car door and got in.

The driver glanced at Morin's mud-covered trousers, sighed, and said nothing.

The car started and sped off towards the rear on the bumpy dirt road.

The First Army's headquarters was set up in a temporary camp about twelve kilometers from the front line.

The liaison officer in the car seemed to be a very good person. He took the initiative to chat with Morin the whole way, but he also maintained a very good sense of propriety.

He first complimented the training assault battalion on their heroic performance in previous battles, saying that their deeds had already spread to headquarters, and then asked some well-timed questions about the new weapons, but never touched on core secrets.

"Captain, I've heard that the automatic weapons your battalion is equipped with are particularly effective in close-quarters combat?"

"It's alright, it just fires a bit fast, and the bullets run out quickly too," Morin replied casually.

"It's not just about being faster!"

The officer laughed:

"I heard from the soldiers who came back that you were like a water hose washing the city streets. The Gauls and Britannians in the street fighting couldn't even lift their heads. You were really amazing!"

Morin secretly admired him. This young man was indeed quite capable to serve as a liaison officer in the army group headquarters. His art of speaking was unmatched by ordinary people.

He can make you feel comfortable without making you feel like he's deliberately flattering you, and he can also get some things out of you that he wants to know.

And you say white people have no social skills?

They chatted all the way, and the car soon arrived at the camp where the temporary command post of the First Army Group was located.

The area was heavily guarded, with staff officers and messengers coming and going everywhere, creating a tense and busy atmosphere.

The liaison officer led Morin through several tents, finally stopping in front of the largest tent.

"Captain, the General and Grand Commander Fortius are waiting for you inside."

Grand Master Fortis?
Morin's heart skipped a beat, and he realized that the other party must be referring to the Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights.

With a hint of doubt, he straightened his not-so-clean military uniform and followed the liaison officer into the tent.

The tent was poorly lit, with several oil lamps hanging to brighten it, and a huge map was spread out on the table in the center.

General Mackensen was standing in front of the map, his back to the door, and beside him stood a tall, elegant woman.

As soon as Morin entered, his gaze was involuntarily drawn to the woman.

His dazzling blond hair seemed to burn in the light of the shimmering oil lamp, and he was incredibly tall, almost as tall as the 1.83-meter-tall man.

She was dressed in a well-tailored Teutonic Knights uniform, the tight fabric accentuating her powerful physique.

That wasn't the 'muscle Barbie' that Morin had seen in her previous life, but a more balanced, restrained, and powerful presence, like a cheetah poised to pounce.

Morin had no doubt that if she punched him in the stomach, he would probably be lying on the ground for a while.

"General, greetings, Commander!"

Morin withdrew his gaze, straightened up, and gave the two men a standard Saxon military salute.

Mackensen turned around, saw Morin, and his serious face softened somewhat, a rare occurrence.

"Captain Morin, you've arrived."

He pointed to the blonde female knight beside him and introduced her:

"This is Grand Master Leonia von Foltis of the Teutonic Knights."

Sure enough it was her.

Morin thought to himself that Ludwig's usual description was not wrong. The Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights was indeed a dazzling 'Golden Lion' that was too dazzling to look directly at.

"Grand Master!" Morin immediately turned back to Leonia and saluted again.

"Captain Morin, I've long admired your name."

Leonia smiled and nodded at him, her voice clear and melodious, with a unique magnetism.

"Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig has mentioned you quite often within the Knights Order, saying you are a military genius that Saxony has only one in a century."

"You flatter me, Grand Commander. Ludwig was just joking with me," Morin said with a modest smile.

"He doesn't seem to be joking."

Leonia's gaze swept over Morin, her eyes so sharp they seemed to see right through him. "Many people in the Knights, including myself, are very curious about you, but we've never had the chance to meet you."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the atmosphere in the tent became serious again.

General Mackensen pointed to the map on the table, his face darkening again. Before Morin could even begin to discuss the frontline offensive, he dropped a bombshell.

"Morin, we've encountered a very tricky problem."

He picked up a telegram and handed it to Morin.

"See for yourself, the Britannians have very likely captured a complete set of our 'energy-conducting armor-piercing weapons'."

Morin took the telegram and quickly glanced at it.

The telegram was concise, describing how a patrol consisting of an infantry battalion and three Siegfried 1 tanks was ambushed by a Britannian elite force disguised as guerrillas on the rear supply line.

The result was a disastrous defeat for the infantry battalion, with three armored vehicles disabled and the drivers brutally murdered.

Their new weapons, an armor-piercing warhammer and an armor-piercing spear, have likely fallen into enemy hands intact.

"."

After reading the telegram, Morin remained silent for a moment.

To be honest, he wasn't particularly surprised by it.

In his view, any weapon that goes to the battlefield will inevitably be destroyed or captured by the enemy sooner or later; it's just a matter of time.

Once put into actual combat, no weapon in this world can remain a secret forever.

However, he really didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

The shaped charge projectile is currently a deadly weapon with an overwhelming advantage in the battles between armored knights.

The fact that the Saxon Empire's army was able to reach the outskirts of Paris so quickly was largely due to the Teutonic Knights' ability to "open the can" of Britannian and Gaulish armored knights on the main battlefield.

However, it was somewhat unexpected and troublesome that the Britannians obtained the samples so early.

Seemingly sensing Morin's thoughts, Grand Commander Leonia spoke up, her voice cold and filled with suppressed anger:

"Captain Morin, this was not a chance encounter, but a meticulously planned ambush. According to the descriptions of the surviving infantry, the Britannians used a type of armored knight that had never been seen before. Their objective was very clear from the beginning: to target our 'energy-conducting armor-piercing weapon'."

"It seems they're really terrified of this thing." Morin nodded knowingly.

The fact that the proud Britannians would lower themselves to such a means to acquire technology speaks volumes about the psychological trauma and actual losses caused by shaped charge armor-piercing munitions.

No, considering the shamelessness of the Britannians, it actually makes sense.
"The problem now is that they did succeed."

General Mackensen's voice carried a deep sense of worry:

“Morin, you are the inventor of this thing, you know its technical principles best. Given the technological level of the Britannians, how long would it take them to reverse engineer the complete weapon?”

This is the most critical question.

Leonia's gaze was also fixed on Morin; the Grand Master of the Golden Lion was clearly well aware of the seriousness of the situation.

Morin pondered for a moment, quickly going through the structure of the shaped charge projectile in his mind.

"General, Commander, to be honest, the situation may be even less optimistic than you imagine."

He organized his thoughts and tried to explain in a way they could understand:
"The core principle of the 'shaped charge projectile,' also known as the 'Morlin effect' by the Imperial Academy of Sciences, is not complicated in itself."

"For emergency purposes, I also designed the structure of the projectile to be very simple. The only difficult part, or rather the precision component, is the [magic spark detonation fuse] at the front of the projectile."

"The purpose of this fuse is to ensure that the shaped charge projectile detonates its internal explosives simultaneously, thereby maximizing the penetration depth of the metal jet, but..."

Morin paused, noticing the increasingly serious expressions on their faces, and continued:

"The technological sophistication of this thing is not a problem at all for the Britannians, whose magical industrial level is higher than that of the Saxon Empire."

"Therefore, given that they seized complete samples, they could directly make a one-to-one replica."

Maureen gave an answer that made the two of them gasp in shock.

"At the fastest, it might only take a few days for them to create their own version."

"Only a few days?!"

Mackensen and Leonia exclaimed in almost unison.

They considered many possibilities, even one or two months.

But they never dreamed that this unit of time would be "day".
"How could it be so fast?" Leonia's tone was filled with disbelief.

"Because this thing was originally something I rushed out in Seville to meet an emergency, so the structure was simplified to the greatest extent possible, with simplicity, reliability, and rapid production as the top priorities," Morin explained.

At the same time, he added in his mind: the most difficult part of a shaped charge warhead is never the warhead itself, but how to deliver it stably and accurately to the target.
Now they've skipped the most difficult delivery phase and just have the armored knight wielding a big stick to stab people, which naturally means there's no skill involved.

This is like giving the Britannians an open-book exam answer key, all they have to do is copy it verbatim.

Upon hearing Morin's explanation, Mackensen and Leonia exchanged a glance, both seeing deep shock and solemnity in each other's eyes.

The situation is far more serious than they had anticipated, even in the worst-case scenario.

This means that the technological advantage that the Saxon Empire had painstakingly built against armored knights could very well vanish within days.

Once the Britannians equip their St. George III or even more advanced machines with similar weapons, the Teutonic Knights will face immense combat pressure.

At that time, the armored knights of both sides will be back on the same starting line, and the Teutonic Knights may even be at a disadvantage because the other side's machine performance is superior.

This will have a catastrophic impact on the entire war effort.

The atmosphere in the command post became extremely oppressive, with only the faint hissing sound of the burning flaming oil lamps audible.

After a long silence, General Mackensen spoke again, staring intently at Morin as if trying to read something from his face.

He asked the most crucial and essential question that Morin had asked him today.

"Morin, since you are the inventor of the 'shaped charge armor-piercing projectile,' do you have any methods to counter this weapon?"

Upon hearing this question, Leonia's breath caught in her throat, and a faint but burning hope ignited in her ruby-like eyes.

Yes, the one who tied the knot must untie it.

Since Morin was able to create this indestructible spear, did he also know how to forge a shield that could withstand it?
Faced with the expectant gazes of the two imperial leaders, Morin gave his answer without hesitation.

"Yes, there are generals."

(End of this chapter)