Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 90 The Royal Selection of Attendants

Philippe Laurent shook his head, still dazed from the shelling, and stood up from the trench.

The familiar battlefield had been completely transformed, with horrifying shell craters everywhere and numerous French soldiers who were also in a state of disorientation or even seriously wounded.

Philippe took a deep breath. He had been in this world for some time, before coming here he was a member of a deeply hidden mixed-race family in France.

From birth, he received not just combat training, but training in how to command wars.

He is considered by his family to be the commander of the new era of war, capable of playing a strong role in future wars between hybrids or between hybrids and dragons.

He always considered himself a commander, looking forward to making a name for himself on the battlefield that would completely change the world order.

However, he never witnessed the war that would change the world. With no other option, he began to study historical wars to satisfy his curiosity. Before coming to this world, he was studying World War I and happened to be studying the Battle of Verdun.

World War I was a war in which only a very small number of mixed-race people participated. He once asked his elders why mixed-race people did not participate in World War I, but instead fought each other in World War II.

The elders in the family all said that during World War I, everyone abided by the Treaty of Abraham and did not reveal their mixed-race identity in front of ordinary people. Only some mixed-race people who awakened their bloodline on the battlefield participated in the war.

After the Second World War, these mixed-race families who did not participate in the war gained enormous profits from the post-war reconstruction, and even had the potential to rule the world.

As for why World War II happened, it was because the Prussian mixed-race population received the least benefit after the war, and even their family businesses were affected by the huge war reparations.

Meanwhile, the mixed-race families of Japan, being far overseas, failed to reap the benefits of this war. As a result, the Japanese and Prussian mixed-race families formed an alliance and launched World War II. This time, since the mixed-race families were involved, the mixed-race families of other countries naturally had to join in as well.

Ultimately, World War II turned into a massive war between mixed-race individuals. However, that war also caused heavy losses to mixed-race families, and the rise of the Red Empire also began to suppress the existence of mixed-race individuals.

Since then, although the hybrid families still wielded immense power, their dream of ruling the world was completely shattered. After years of recuperation and the fall of the Crimson Empire, the hybrid families saw the possibility of ruling the world once again.

However, that would still require a war, and the new era of war would also involve the Dragon King, completely reshuffling the world order.

Philippe Laurent didn't know when the new era of war would arrive, but he began to fantasize about what would have happened if mixed-race people had been involved in World War I. He wondered if the Battle of Verdun, which had shattered the spirit of the French, would have been less devastating.

His dream came true; he actually arrived in Verdun during World War I and became a French company commander.

Initially, he was ambitious and tried to change the course of the war by himself. He compiled his memories of the Prussian attack time, main direction of attack, scale of artillery preparation, and even the tactical weaknesses summarized by later generations into detailed reports and submitted them to his superiors time and time again.

However, these prophetic intelligence reports ultimately went unanswered. No one believed that a young company commander could foresee an attack that had not yet occurred. Instead, they suspected him of trying to gain popularity or even disrupting morale, and almost dismissed him from his post.

Reality dealt him a heavy blow. Faced with this massive, rigid war machine that relied on tradition and experience, he, a mere company commander, had no say whatsoever.

Left with no other choice, he could only do what he could. Using his authority as company commander, he ordered his soldiers to dig deeper trenches, reinforce fortifications, and store more ammunition and supplies.

However, he found that he had underestimated the Prussian bombardment. Even though he had ordered his soldiers to dig the trenches two meters deeper, the overwhelming bombardment still caused heavy losses to his men.

However, he had no time to overthink. About two hundred meters ahead, he saw a group of gray figures cautiously and quickly advancing towards his position along the edge of the shell crater and the remains of the trench.

Those were Prussian assault troops! They had indeed taken advantage of the chaos after the shelling to sneak up!

"Get up! Get up! The Prussians are coming!" Philip roared with all his might, but many soldiers were still in a daze.

Can't wait any longer!

Golden light began to emanate from his eyes, and he began to chant. In an instant, an invisible force field spread out from Philippe, enveloping the surviving French soldiers within a radius of tens of meters.

Those soldiers who were initially dizzy from the shock instantly felt a surge of heat pump from their hearts to their limbs and bones. The tinnitus and dizziness receded like a tide, replaced by an unprecedented sense of power.

The wounded soldiers, who were groaning in pain, were astonished to find that the burning pain in their wounds was rapidly subsiding, as if they had been injected with a powerful anesthetic. Although the wounds were still gruesome, they could no longer hinder their movements.

Philippe Laurent's Word of Power is the Chosen One, and it is because of this Word of Power that he is known as the Commander of the New Era.

Word of Power: Royal Chosen Servant Serial Number 29. Its effect is that within the caster's domain, the companion chosen by him will receive a short-term physical enhancement, the upper limit of which can reach the limits of the human body.

When people are enhanced, their adrenaline levels surge, their heart rate and blood flow increase significantly, and the release of endorphins and dopamine in the brain accelerates, causing them to experience a significant decrease in their pain perception, or even temporarily lose all pain sensation.

However, there are also side effects. The person being enhanced will be in a weakened state for several days after the enhancement ends, and being enhanced multiple times in a short period of time may lead to sudden death.

However, these side effects are so insignificant in the race against time on the battlefield.

The surrounding French soldiers became excited, their eyes gleaming with a pale golden light. Their breathing became heavy and powerful, their hearts pounded like drums, their muscles bulged, and every cell roared with a thirst for battle.

They picked up the guns that had fallen at their feet and began to attack the Prussian troops that were advancing in front of them.

"Right-side trench wreckage! Hotchkiss machine gun! Quick! Set it up! Suppress the front!" Philip began issuing orders.

"Grenades ready! Wait until they get within thirty meters!"

"Don't let them retreat!"

"For France!"

At his command, several Hotchkiss machine guns that had managed to survive without being completely destroyed roared almost simultaneously, and a dense hail of bullets instantly wove together a net of fire, sweeping wildly along the predicted Prussian advance route.

The Prussian assault team, which had been cautiously advancing, clearly hadn't expected such a fierce counterattack. They were instantly overwhelmed and forced to take cover.

"What's going on?! How do they still have such strong firepower?!" A Prussian lieutenant hiding on the edge of a shell crater peeked out half his face in disbelief, only to be quickly forced back by bullets.

Logically, after suffering such intense shelling, the surviving enemy on the position should be in a state of extreme chaos and weakness, making it impossible for them to organize an effective defense and counterattack so quickly.

But his response was a grenade that flew in from a flank crater.

With a loud bang, three Prussian soldiers were thrown into the air by the shockwave and crashed heavily to the ground beside them.

Then, something even more terrifying happened to the Prussians.

The French soldiers who were supposed to be hiding in the trenches suddenly appeared as if they had gone mad and climbed out of their bunkers.

No longer content with holding their ground, they used the numerous shell craters created by the shelling as cover to rapidly close the distance in a near-suicidal advance.

When the Prussian soldiers panicked and opened fire in return, and bullets struck the charging French troops, something even stranger happened.

A French soldier was shot in the chest, his body jerked, and blood soaked through his uniform, but he only let out a low growl and continued to charge forward with his bayonet.

"My God—they—aren't they afraid of pain?!" a Prussian soldier exclaimed, his voice trembling.

The enemy before him overturned all his understanding, but the French soldiers were not immune to injury; rather, they were indifferent to it.

The king's selection of servants did not make them invulnerable, but rather caused them to completely abandon their human instincts in a short period of time.

French soldiers approached along the shell crater, and the distance was quickly reduced to fifty meters, then thirty meters.

"Retreat! Retreat to the left flank!" The Prussian officer finally realized something was wrong and began to give orders.

But it was too late.

Using the craters and collapsed terrain created by the artillery fire, the French army cut in from the flank, like a pair of clamping pincers, trapping the Prussian troops that had penetrated too far.

Hand grenades were thrown one after another into the narrow space, and the sound of explosions rose and fell.

The next moment, close combat began. Bayonets pierced through uniforms, rifle butts smashed facial bones, and bullets fired within ten meters. The enhanced French soldiers moved swiftly and fiercely, even when shot in the heart, they would take one more step forward before falling completely.

The fighting was extremely fierce. A French soldier was hit in the leg by machine gun fire during the charge, his lower leg almost severed. He fell to the ground, but used his hands to claw at the ground, dragging his mangled limb forward for a few more meters. Then, with his last strength, he pulled the pin on a tightly gripped grenade.

The explosion engulfed him and two Prussian soldiers.

Philippe Laurent stood not far away, watching all of this.

Fine beads of sweat had already seeped from his forehead. Maintaining such a large and intense domain of Word Power was a huge drain on his mental and physical strength, but the domain of Word Power remained stable within that small area.

This Prussian force had to be wiped out. A few minutes later, the gunfire began to subside.

The Prussian troops that had penetrated too deep were no longer able to mount an effective counterattack. They were felled one by one by the French troops, and the gray figures became fewer and fewer. After a few last sporadic shots, the area fell into a brief silence.

Philip slowly exhaled, the golden light in his eyes dimming.

Word of Power: The King's Chosen Attendant, Close.

Almost at the same instant the domain disappeared, the French soldiers who had just been like gods of war suddenly lost their momentum. Some of them collapsed to their knees, gasping for breath as if they were about to cough up their lungs.

Some people could barely stand by leaning against their guns, but their bodies began to tremble violently and uncontrollably. Cold sweat instantly soaked their clothes. Others realized that they were already seriously injured, and the pain surged back like a tidal wave, causing them to let out heart-wrenching screams.

But they won.

At least, we won in this small battlefield.

Philippe Laurent did not immediately comfort the soldiers or take stock of the casualties; instead, his gaze passed over the smoke and looked toward the advancing Prussian lines in the distance.

"Verdun—" he repeated the name of the place in a low voice.

"If this war is truly going to devour everything, then let me see just how far fate can be altered under the command of a hybrid." Philippe Laurent clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm. He would prove his abilities, prove that he was the commander his family had hoped for.