A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 534 Ashes of Winter

The end of December.

The soldiers hadn't celebrated what should have been "Saint Mary's Day" for two years. According to the propaganda, this was progress in not being fooled by the church; a fake holiday wasn't worth celebrating. But in a foreign land where it wasn't so pleasant, those who clung to their guns felt a pang of nostalgia deep down.

What we miss is not necessarily the holidays, but the peaceful and tranquil days spent in our own homes with our families during the cold.

It is said that there is a tradition of praying for a good harvest at a similar time of year within the empire, but now the two sides are mortal enemies. Members of the National Guard, deep in enemy territory, peek out from their trenches and tents, only to find scorched earth plowed by artillery fire, with no sign of a good harvest or celebration to be found.

They trembled, somewhat bewildered. Weren't they supposed to be in the National Guard? Why were they defending someone else's territory?

Fortunately, the guards had been working on morale from top to bottom, and most people understood that fighting here was about securing a safe future for their country. "You have to hurt them to make them understand that we are not to be trifled with!" Everyone understood this.

So on the holidays that were banned, the only consolation was some food from their hometowns, and the soldiers shared things they had treasured or that were sent from their hometowns.

They used to always complain about how bad the canned food tasted, until Istani became the contract manufacturer, which made them realize their mistake and feel ashamed to admit they owed their factory an apology. Occasionally, however, there would be some mysterious canned food with the labels removed that tasted quite good, and even resembled the spoils captured from the Empire by a large margin.

Even canned goods became scarce, and the speed at which winter uniforms and cotton-padded clothes were sent from their hometowns could not keep up with the cold winter and their northward journey.

Around the campfire, someone started a slightly melancholic tune that drifted through the camp, but it couldn't get into the command post.

"There's only one major city left before the capital, Oward. It's bisected by the Oward River, which divides the city into north and south banks. And the defenses prepared for us along the river are the closest to the capital." Pascal spread out a map: "It's said that the defending general is the Empire's famous Turtle General. We seem to have fought against him before."

Paul, unwilling to get bogged down in pointless reminiscences with his senior, said, "That's not important. The key is our own situation."

He cleared away all the fragments covering the map, revealing a clear view, allowing all commanders to no longer be confined to their own locations and nearby battlefields, but to the entire eastern part of the empire.

"Now we are deep in enemy territory, out of the protection of the Black Forest. Our right flank will be exposed to the Imperial forces in the west, and it is known that the Imperial army in Valuva has gradually returned to defend and is advancing towards our forces. On the other hand, since we have left the coastline and the Imperial navy has completed its assembly, supplies from the sea have begun to lag."

"In other words, our pressure will increase sharply, both militarily and logistically. I'm considering whether or not to launch an attack."

Other generals immediately said, "We're about to meet 'His Majesty the Emperor,' how can we give up halfway? Besides, since supplies are running out, isn't this city the best place to resupply?" Many generals were dreaming of the glory of capturing the capital, so no one wanted to hear Paul's cold water, but fortunately everyone was still willing to listen.

Paul explained, “I’m even considering not abandoning the attack on Oward, but halting the entire offensive.” He complained impatiently, “What are those politicians doing now, those guys who keep babbling in the National Assembly? They should have sent envoys to sit down and negotiate with the Empire long ago.”

"Think about it carefully, everyone. Is our target really the capital? The capital of another country? Do you intend to conquer new territories there?"

"Of course not, we are."

Paul continued, "We are acting to defend our homeland. Several factors have contributed to our choice of targeting the capital. First, attacking from the Low Countries would allow us to break through the weakest link in the Empire's strongest defenses. Second, this operation is a proactive one, intended to tie down the main Imperial army, as our capital, like the Empire's, is the closest and weakest point on the eastern front. Therefore, heading straight for the capital is the appropriate choice."

"And now? The crisis in our homeland has been resolved, and the imperial army has basically returned to its homeland. In my opinion, our mission is complete."

"Do we really want to change the systems of all countries and join some 'sister republic' family? I think that even if the whole world becomes a republic one day, as long as there are countries and ethnic groups, there will still be contradictions, conflicts, and bloodshed, which is war. In that case, I can't understand the point of letting soldiers die far from home."

There was something else he kept to himself: Even an emperor doesn't necessarily have to be eliminated. The people need outstanding people to lead them. Does calling someone "Your Majesty" mean it's bad, and calling them "First Citizen" mean it's good?

Pascal couldn't help but interject, "If you said that in Valuana, you'd be invited to the National Square tomorrow."

"Is that the square where prominent figures were executed? Won't its guillotine become particularly valuable historically in the future?"

The command disagreed with Paul's views, and the generals did not directly refute or strongly criticize them, but instead cleverly consulted the National Salvation Committee.

The message transmitted through the telegraph lines was clear, concise, and powerful: Generals, fight until the empire is destroyed.

Paul sighed, "If every member of the National Salvation Committee had served as a soldier for at least ten days, no, just three, this telegram would have been delivered in a completely different light."

Paul did not yet possess the power or prestige to make his words lawful, so the orders of the National Salvation Committee were the highest command, and the winter offensive to break through the last line of defense of the Empire began.

In order to solve the problem of supply shortages and create a solid rear and a powerful supply center for future imperial offensives, almost everyone agreed to take over Oward.

Since no enemy has been able to set foot on the Marin Kingdom's borders for over a hundred years, many large cities in the core area of ​​the empire, like Valuana, have old, small city walls that have long since become only valuable as cultural landscapes, and this value has not yet been discovered in the present day. Other newly developed urban areas and industrial zones are thus exposed on both sides of the river, making the Valuans drool with envy.

Between the chimneys, on the south bank of the Oder River, all the giant machine assault troops sounded the charge, and countless shells whistled overhead, one after another.

The defenders of the inland cities were not prepared with chain shot, and the only thing they could resist the attackers was ordinary artillery and airship fleets.

"The Empire's anti-magic zone has been deployed. Eleven units have slowed down, but have maintained their mobility and limited firepower!" All the assault units that have not yet been lost on the battlefield are now equipped with the new generation of Black Coffin System, which allows them to continue operating in the long-term zone.

Paul was fairly satisfied with the progress of the battle; the south bank of the city could be captured today, and the resistance in the streets and alleys was not as strong as expected.

Suddenly he smelled something burning. Paul frowned and sniffed carefully. Then he saw gray "snow" falling from the sky.

"What?!"

Almost instantly, the National Guard’s victory—the south bank of Overward—was turned into a sea of ​​fire, and the ashes seemed to fall even before the flames, igniting anything they touched. Just breathing air would cause intense burning of the nose and throat.

(End of this chapter)