Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 42 Bad News

10 minute ago.

The temporary headquarters of the 16th Brigade was located in a relatively intact building south of Seville, where bullet marks from the battle could still be faintly seen on the walls.

At this moment, in the largest room of the building, Major General Paul, the brigade commander, was rubbing his temples vigorously, his brows furrowed into a knot.

On the table in front of him lay a summary of casualties—more than 37% of the entire brigade had been killed or wounded, and several battalions that had suffered heavy losses were almost completely dismantled.

Besides that, there were several urgent intelligence reports that had just been sent back by frontline scouts, and the chief of staff was reporting these reports to him.

"The Kingdom's army and the Britannians did not go far; they stopped less than 8 kilometers outside the city and are regrouping."

"Moreover, they received a large number of reinforcements, estimated to be at least two or three regiments."

This news was bad enough, but worse was yet to come.

"The key is"

The staff officer paused, seemingly unsure how to continue.

"We have confirmed that the enemy's Garde Knights have increased the number of armored knights from two to eight."

"Eight platforms?!"

Major General Paul looked up abruptly, feeling as if he had been slapped hard across the face.

This means that the Teutonic Knights' armored knights on their side have lost even their previous negligible numerical advantage.

In the previous battle, Ludwig and his men, with a three-fold numerical advantage and the loss of half of their armored knights, managed to barely take down two of the enemy's armored knights.

However, the enemy has now surpassed our armored knights in numbers, and if we clash again...
Major General Paul dared not even think about it.

"General, should we consider a temporary retreat?"

A young officer suggested in a low voice.

"Retreat?"

Major General Paul snorted and slammed his hand on the table.

"Where to retreat to? We're in Seville, which we just captured. It's a major city in southern Aragon and the Empire's primary target!"

"If we lose it, not only will all our previous sacrifices be in vain, but the entire southern front will be shaken!"

He stood up and paced back and forth in the room, his boots making a heavy thud on the floor.

"We cannot retreat, not even a single step."

Major General Paul stopped in his tracks, his eyes sharpening.

"Send a telegram to the Expeditionary Force Command and the General Staff, reporting the situation and informing them that the 16th Brigade will hold Seville until the armored airships arrive!"

He glanced around at his subordinates, his voice firm and resolute.

"Order: Summon all officers of battalion level and above to the brigade headquarters for an emergency military meeting immediately!"

The order was passed down quickly.

Soon after Major Thomas and Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig, who had just finished dealing with disciplinary issues with Morin, received a message from the messenger.

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing the gravity in each other's eyes. Without saying a word, they immediately set off for the brigade headquarters.

Meanwhile, at the temporary base of the 3rd Platoon of the 1st Battalion, Morin was holding his second combat debriefing meeting since arriving in this world.

Unlike the first time when everyone was reserved, this time the atmosphere was much more lively.

Having just survived a bloody battle, these soldiers had a lot to say.

"Platoon leader, I think flanking fire is incredibly useful!"

A corporal was the first to stand up, his expression becoming somewhat excited as the topic was discussed.

"Especially that heavy machine gun, my God! With it positioned there, it was practically a slaughterhouse! Those Kingdom soldiers were falling down in rows like wheat!" His words immediately resonated with everyone.

"That's right! We used to think that heavy machine guns were just bulky machines that could only be used to defend positions. We never imagined that they could be so effective in an offensive operation, as long as you find a good position!"

"Yes, yes, we used to huddle together too closely. When a shell exploded, it would wipe out a whole bunch of people. This time, we listened to the platoon leader and spread out. Although it looks chaotic, the casualties are indeed much smaller!"

The soldiers chattered amongst themselves, each sharing their own insights to some extent.

Morin listened with satisfaction; this was exactly the effect he wanted.

These soldiers were no longer just puppets who obeyed orders; they began to think proactively and summarize their experiences and lessons learned.

This enhancement of subjective initiative is more significant than winning a battle.

However, someone soon raised a question that silenced everyone.

"Platoon leader, how do we deal with those heavily armored Britannians?"

The voice of a soldier who had survived a close-quarters battle was somewhat weak.

"Our bullets were completely useless against them."

The previously enthusiastic atmosphere instantly cooled down.

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines when they recalled those heavily armored soldiers who charged across the battlefield like tin cans.

Morin looked at Sergeant Klaus: "Klaus, how were these kinds of situations handled in the army before?"

Klaus frowned, thought for a moment, and then shook his head:

“Platoon leader, to be honest, our ordinary infantry regiments rarely face this kind of enemy directly. From what I’ve heard, it’s usually a few Saxon Royal Guard divisions that deal with it.”

"There are also some heavily armored soldiers in the Royal Guard who are capable of 'equal combat'. I've never heard of sending us ordinary infantrymen to fight head-on."

This answer was exactly what Morin had expected. After all, the Saxons couldn't be completely helpless against these heavily armored soldiers. Just like the armored knights, there had to be units that could counter them.

Currently, it seems that in this world, elite units are used to counter elite units, and there is a clear unit counter chain.

Just when everyone was at a loss, a messenger from the battalion headquarters rode up on horseback and stopped the reins at the temporary assembly point of the 3rd platoon.

"Is Lieutenant Morin here? Major Thomas orders you to go to the battalion headquarters for a meeting immediately!"

Morin immediately stood up. The fact that he was being called to a meeting at the battalion headquarters at this time meant that Major Thomas and his men had just learned some information at the brigade headquarters and needed to pass it down.

"Klaus, continue to organize the discussion and write down all the questions."

"Yes, Platoon Commander!"

After giving instructions to Klaus, Morin didn't dare to delay and quickly followed the messenger toward the camp headquarters.

He had a premonition that something big was about to happen.

"I hope it's not bad news."

When Morin arrived at the temporary headquarters of the 1st Battalion, he found it already packed with people.

All the surviving company commanders and platoon leaders were gathered in this command post, which was temporarily set up using a few folding map tables.

Everyone's face showed an undeniable weariness, and several people had bandages wrapped around their bodies.

Battalion Commander Major Thomas stood in front of the map, his face quite gloomy, an expression indicating that he had just received bad news from the brigade headquarters.

When he saw Morin come in, he simply nodded, indicating that he should find a place to stand.

Once everyone had arrived, Major Thomas cleared his throat and got straight to the point.

"Gentlemen, we just received some news at the brigade headquarters meeting: the enemy has not completely retreated, but has regrouped and received a large number of reinforcements. The brigade headquarters expects to launch a counterattack against us once they have regrouped."

(End of this chapter)