Chapter 1302
: Is Taking Risks the Only Option?
Upon seeing Ring and his two companions, Carson Borg nodded slightly in welcome, but without lengthy pleasantries, immediately led them to the Northern Army's headquarters, where General Franzand's command post was located. For well-known reasons, the Northern Army and the Liberator Front's headquarters were always separate, with the Greyhill Eagles holding independent command of the Liberator Front. This situation inevitably sparked speculation among those with ulterior motives. Rumors were circulating among the rebels that after the recapture of Ansers, the royal family intended to restore the Borg family's reputation in the land, and Carson Borg, as the heir to this noble name and the popular leader of the rebels, was naturally qualified to become the new ruler of Greyhill.
Rumors swirled, and the Liberators' Front welcomed the move, believing that having the well-informed Greyhill Eagle rule Greyhill was far better than the incompetent Greyhill Earl. General Franzand's adjutant, however, was deeply dissatisfied. He was a confidant of the Earl of the North, whose initial involvement in the conflict stemmed from the royal promise to grant him Greyhill as a territory after its recapture. The adjutant suspected the royal family of reneging on their promise and implicated the Borg family in their machinations. Therefore, he had been somewhat cold towards the Greyhill Eagle, frequently making sarcastic remarks, which the latter ignored.
He was focused solely on victory; nothing else mattered.
As is customary, General Franz Sand will convene a final operational meeting before tomorrow's decisive battle to discuss military deployments and operational plans. Thanks to the rebels' brilliant achievements in the Ansès region, many forces that were previously observing have finally made up their minds and are using their influence to mobilize manpower and resources to extend goodwill to the rebels.
Although the Church of the Night had weakened, its influence remained. A fully armed Dark Knights provided the rebels with a much-needed force for offensive operations. One wonders what these loyal followers of the Night felt when they learned they would be fighting alongside former apologists who had defied God. They stood silently in a corner of the camp, seemingly out of place with the surrounding clamor, with only the heavy, cold scraping sound of their armor plates moving.
The Adventurers' Guild, based in the Evernight Woods, wasn't known for its combat prowess, but its experienced adventurers were undoubtedly the most qualified support force and reserves. Their connections across all levels of society also provided the rebels with a valuable intelligence network. These adventurers, who had always lived by the principle of self-preservation, were stepping onto the battlefield for the first time, especially for a reason they had previously found laughable. Dressed in a motley collection of equipment, some leaned against their weapons, conversing in hushed tones, while others silently polished their daggers and bowstrings, showing absolutely no sign of the tension before the great battle.
The blacksmiths' guild of Bartiaen, the city of forging iron, provided the rebels with a large quantity of weapons and armor at below-cost prices. The merchant alliance of Bathory, the city of pearls, donated a large amount of supplies, including weapons, medicine, and food, free of charge. Brand-new swords and repaired armor were piled up under the makeshift sheds, the furnaces burned day and night, and the clanging of hammers was incessant. Carts covered with tarpaulins shuttled between the camps, and well-dressed, shrewd merchant representatives were counting and handing over supplies to the rebels' logistics officers.
They weren't moved by the visible hope; they just wanted to be on the side of the victors.
While such a statement might seem like opportunism and even despicable, a competent leader must know how to coexist with things they dislike. Therefore, General Franzson accepted these gestures of goodwill and symbolically reserved a place for these factions in the war council. The Eagle of Grayhill once told the younger generation that what he admired most about this general was not his command ability, but rather his capacity to coordinate various forces—even those with ulterior motives and their own agendas—into a unified fighting force under his leadership.
The Northern Army, the Liberation Front, the Church Army, mercenaries, adventurers, the Blacksmith Guild, the Merchant Alliance... the composition of this rebel army was unprecedentedly complex. In comparison, Ling's group was somewhat inconspicuous. On the one hand, it was because he kept a low profile and few people knew of his existence. On the other hand, it was because he only brought two people to this war council: Hino and Countess Neville.
Both were key combatants in this war. As for the others, including Saint Charlotte, they remained on Cloud Whale Sky Island, but they weren't entirely uninvolved. Before leaving the island, Lin Ge had instructed her that if the battle reached a stalemate, Cloud Whale Sky Island would become a decisive force, but it was crucial to seize the opportunity. But how to seize the opportunity? He didn't explain in detail, simply placing his complete trust in the shepherdess, believing she knew how to make the judgment.
The command tent reeked of gunpowder, leather, and ink. A huge battle map lay spread out on the central table, covered with chess pieces representing enemy and friendly forces. General Franz Sander was bent over the map, moving the pieces and updating the deployment in real time based on intelligence provided by several staff officers. His face was weathered, his eyes sharp and deep, revealing a weariness and determination born of years of battle.
This was the young man's first time meeting this general, renowned for his composure and skill in battle, and the other man was no different. However, their first encounter left little impression on either of them; they merely exchanged a quick glance and a perfunctory greeting. General Franz Sand was busy assigning tasks to his troops. The rebel army had grown exponentially, with over 30,000 men awaiting orders on this battlefield alone, not including the accompanying artisans, auxiliary soldiers, and orderly personnel.
But war is never about how many people you have, but about how much of their strength you can utilize. If, like Major General Andrei, the commander of the 17th Army Corps, you had the strength of an entire corps but could only utilize less than one-tenth of its power, then the person besieged in Suarez, anxiously waiting for the dust to settle, would not be him.
How to rationally allocate this massive force across the entire battlefield, using a small force to withstand the enemy's attack, and then using a superior force to decisively break through the enemy's defensive area—the art of war sounds that simple, yet very few people can master it.
Grayhill Eagle and his Liberators' Front were assigned to the northeastern region of Suarez, based on his familiarity with the terrain as a local. The enemy had stationed three infantry battalions, an artillery platoon, a mechanized platoon, and a tank platoon along the northeastern line. The Liberators' Front's mission was to intercept, and ideally destroy, this force to prevent it from supporting the main battlefront. If resources allowed, a probing attack on the enemy's northeastern section of the line could be attempted, but no rash advances should be undertaken until the enemy's core force field was located and destroyed.
As the capital city of the Ansers region and the headquarters of the Seventeenth Legion, Suarez is itself a towering and sturdy fortress. On the map, it resembles a massive steel monster perched atop the Gray Hills, with thick walls and a forest of turrets. The manpower and resources required to maintain this steel fortress are unimaginable. Meanwhile, the enemy has been constantly withdrawing its forces and reinforcing the city's defenses. Just how many troops and supplies are currently stockpiled within the city? It must be an exaggerated number.
Without specific intelligence, General Franz Sand defined the war as a protracted war, a war of attrition, and a war of offense and defense. He firmly believed that although the enemy's defensive forces were strong, their fighting spirit was not firm. As long as the war dragged on, a weakness would eventually appear. In any case, except for Suarez, most of the cities in the Ansers region had already fallen into the hands of the rebels. At this moment, the rebels were the ones with the advantage and had ample tactical flexibility.
Linger, however, recalled the annihilated Crusader fleet. Reason told him that General Franzand's battle strategy was correct. Even if the Crusaders dispatched a second reinforcement to Ansers immediately after learning of the fleet's destruction, it would be impossible for them to arrive in a short time. Theoretically, the rebels did have ample time to slowly wage a tug-of-war with the city's defenders until they could no longer hold out.
This is the safest approach and will minimize casualties.
But I fear it's not that simple. During the war council, Ling and Xinuo exchanged a glance, both seeing the worry in each other's eyes. However, neither of them voiced their concerns. Firstly, they were unfounded, and secondly, it would be pointless. This war involved the fates of countless people, and the money, equipment, supplies, and even lives lost were countless. It was impossible to stop because of the worries of one or two people.
The wheels of war roll ever onward, and the fate of ordinary people moves with them, turning them into dust or blood.
anyway.
The young man silently repeated to himself for what seemed like the umpteenth time: Just do your best.
……
While the rebel army outside the city held a battle meeting, the 17th Legion inside the city was also making intensive preparations for various pre-battle matters. On the narrow streets, soldiers hurried along, carrying ammunition boxes and repair equipment, the heavy wheels making a harsh noise as they rolled over the cobblestones. The air was filled with the metallic smell unique to the operation of magical machinery, the smoke from burning inferior grease, and a lingering sense of tension.
Compared to the chaotic yet orderly pace of the rebel army, the rhythm here was clearly much more intense, to the point of being somewhat oppressive. During his inspection, Andrei even discovered that a magical engineer had mistakenly installed a magical crystal that should have been installed in the [Ether Defense Field] into the [Magic Energy Defense Field]. Both are field devices with similar names, but their functions are completely different, and there are clear distinctions regarding the magical energy level and number of circuits for the magical crystals. A minor oversight during installation could potentially lead to irreparable consequences on the battlefield.
Major General Andrei, already in a bad mood, flew into a rage, berated the magic engineer, and ordered stricter maintenance and installation of all magic equipment to prevent a recurrence. If magic engineers weren't such a rare and irreplaceable skill, Major General Andrei might have used the careless engineer as an example, severely punishing him to intimidate these timid soldiers before the decisive battle, making them understand that war cannot be avoided through cowardice, and that taking responsibility now is better than regretting it later when they lose their lives on the battlefield.
Although he knew in his heart that doing so would not be very effective.
The root cause lies in the military system of the Axis powers, or rather, the essence of this colonial war: it was nothing more than a means to seize profits for the emperor, the nobles, the merchants… for countless others, but not for themselves. Previously, when the situation wasn't this tense, this mentality wasn't so obvious. After all, although they couldn't go to the front lines to achieve glory, staying in the rear was at least safe. But now, they clearly haven't enjoyed the benefits of the war, yet they have to bear the same risks, and are even highly likely to die on the battlefield. Naturally, they harbor resentment and indignation.
An army like this, lacking both morale and fighting spirit, has negligible combat effectiveness. As a graduate of the Imperial Military Academy, Major General Andrei possessed a degree of pride; would he willingly surrender such a large strategic area outside Suarez? Ultimately, it was because they had too few cards to play and needed to concentrate them to achieve a significant effect.
Although Andrei had conveyed the news that reinforcements were about to arrive, which had barely stirred their morale and stabilized the emotions of the various forces in the city, he could not answer any of these questions: How many reinforcements were there? When would they arrive? Was it possible to repel the enemy? These questions inevitably aroused suspicion.
He couldn't possibly be like the rebels outside the city, chanting slogans like "For Gray Hill," "For Freedom," or "For Peace," and instantly gain widespread support and a united front. Unrealizable slogans only sound ridiculous. "For the Emperor?" His Majesty the Emperor only cared about his crown and his achievements in history books; his cold gaze never lingered on his soldiers, and they naturally didn't take him seriously. "For Survival?" Strictly speaking, they were the invaders, seizing the land of the innocent and oppressing their living space—everyone knew this, so even the most shameless person wouldn't shout such a slogan. As for "For the Commander," needless to say, Andrei was essentially one of the beneficiaries; the profits he reaped from this war were evident in the lavish Governor's Mansion, nicknamed the "Grand Theater."
Andrei had considered distributing the wealth in the governor's mansion to boost the morale of the soldiers, but in the end he had to admit that this method was not suitable for him. He was not a generous commander, and his military policy was mainly strict. If he rashly made a gesture of kindness, it would only make the soldiers panic and think that the situation had indeed reached an irreversible point.
After much thought, there was no sure way, but there were a few rather risky methods.
He walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city shrouded in the shadow of war. In the distance, the campfires of the rebel army outside the city flickered like sparks about to ignite a prairie fire. The cold glass reflected his furrowed brow and bloodshot eyes.
Andrei did not like taking risks.
If he still had a choice. (End of Chapter)