Chapter 126 - A Burden Too Heavy (3)
The day before the assault.
It felt as if the fear from those words was seeping through the air, slowly spreading.
Ernest even thought that maybe it would be better if the enemy staged a surprise attack at night.
After all, with the Regimental Commander himself involved, they wouldn't dare neglect the watch.
Even if they were attacked at night, surely there wouldn't be another breach like last time, with the front lines collapsing.
The field was a real pain, but he'd still much rather fight from the defensive.
Those high-ranking folks who don't have to risk their lives always seem to prefer attacking, but for those actually fighting on the ground, defense is the obvious choice—because the chances of dying are lower.
Of course.
Unfortunately, Belliang did not launch an attack, despite the earnest hopes of Ernest and several other field commanders.
"Ugh, what useless bastards. If you're going to do a surprise attack, it should be the night before the assault. How could they waste such a golden opportunity?"
"Someone should go and ask them to attack us right now."
"Who should go? Should we send the fastest runner?"
"Then that means Ernest should go."
"Yeah, Ernest is perfect. He's quick on his feet and great at reading the terrain."
"Or how about our bravest Company Commander takes care of it."
"No way, I'm too much of a coward for that. Let Krieger, the brave one, handle it."
"I'm a coward too, you know."
The 2nd Company commanders sat together, whispering and scheming as if they were plotting a mutiny.
Honestly, in their hearts, they wanted to tell Belliang that now was the perfect time to attack.
Of course, if they really were attacked, they'd fight back with a barrage of curses, but no matter what, none of them wanted to attack first.
The night passed by quietly.
Ernest woke up once during the night to take watch with the 1st Platoon, but nothing happened, and he got a good night's sleep.
"The Regimental Commander stopped by at dawn."
When Ernest woke up in the morning, Jonas, looking exhausted, told him the commander had come and gone.
"What did he say?"
"He told us to crush the enemy with the bravery worthy of the elite 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment, and bring back the battalion flag."
"Oh… If it's that urgent, why doesn't he go fetch the flag himself…"
The Regimental Commander had gone so far as to come out to the front to encourage them, but rather than raise morale, it only made things worse.
Who would feel inspired when someone only pops by when it's safe, rattles off a few words, and leaves?
If the Regimental Commander actually grabbed the regimental flag and charged with them, morale would probably skyrocket.
"Eat a hearty breakfast. Just eat a little at lunch later. If you run, you'll throw up."
Following Yurgen's advice, everyone made sure to eat a hearty breakfast.
It would've been nice to have a decent meal before a charge, but all they had was the same miserable stew they always ate, made by throwing together those damned biscuits and some jerky.
"What are we supposed to do until the charge?"
After eating, they found themselves with nothing to do. Weapons inspections had been finished ages ago, and there was nothing more to be done about tactics. When Robert, sighing deeply, asked the question, Yurgen grinned, leaned back against the wall, and said,
"Get some good rest. Wake me up when it's time for lunch."
Ernest frowned slightly at the sight.
"That's neglecting your duty."
"You've got plenty of energy, don't you? Not that there's much good in being too energetic. Why don't you burn some of it off with a run?"
"Trying to waste your subordinates' strength right before a battle isn't exactly wise."
"Hey, I'm tired, so get lost."
"Why are you tired? You didn't even stand guard."
"You'll understand when you're my age…"
And with that, Yurgen really did start snoring.
"Let's get some rest too."
"What if someone complains?"
"If anyone complains, just say we're faithfully following the Company Commander's orders."
"That makes sense."
The platoon leaders of the 2nd Company divided their soldiers into shifts for rest before the charge, and they took some rest themselves as well. Since the assault was scheduled for noon, lunch would come early, but they still had time to spare. Staying tense right up until the fighting started would just leave them exhausted and unable to fight properly when the battle truly began.
Even with combat just around the corner, the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment, enjoyed a rather relaxed atmosphere as they took a break. Other units were resting too, but none seemed quite as at ease as this one.
Ernest, who hadn't gotten enough sleep because of night watch, managed to snatch a brief nap to make up for it. But he couldn't sleep for long. Thanks to his excellent stamina, just a few minutes of rest was enough to shake off any drowsiness.
"Senior Captain Bruno."
"Oh, Lieutenant Krieger."
Ernest went to find Bruno. Bruno, unable to sleep from nerves, was just staring endlessly toward the other side of the forest.
"What brings you here? I thought you were getting some rest."
Bruno greeted Ernest warmly. Standing beside him, Ernest replied,
"I couldn't sleep anymore, so I came to ask Senior Captain Bruno to teach me some Belliang."
"...Oh."
Bruno seemed genuinely moved.
"I didn't expect you'd want to study even in a situation like this. That's really impressive."
Bruno lifted the hood of his raincoat slightly as he spoke.
"I just wanted to stick to my usual routine. It helps me relax."
Ernest replied in a low voice.
Bruno quietly mulled over Ernest's words.
Is this what happens if you grow up in an environment good enough for studying to become an everyday habit?
No, that can't be. If that were true, then all nobles would be geniuses.
"Then let's divide our time. I'll teach you Belliang, but in return, please teach me some mathematics during the rest of the time."
"Mathematics… do you like it?"
"What? Oh, no, it's not that I like it…"
"How much do you know about mathematics?"
"Well…What?"
Bruno deeply regretted his careless statement. The Ernest who had come to learn Belliang held onto Bruno and subjected him to over two hours of relentless mathematics, constantly testing his limits.
"Look at that. He's going to wear the poor guy out at this rate. Just have your meal, will you."
Until Yurgen, who had enjoyed a refreshing, deep sleep, came to his rescue, Bruno had to endure a hellish ordeal.
Once Bruno was finally freed from the clutches of The Ruthless Ernest Krieger and regained his liberty, Isaac, who had been hovering nearby and listening in, quietly got up, trying not to draw attention to himself.
"Next time, Senior Captain Isaac, you should join our study sessions too."
"What? Me?"
"Didn't you come here to study?"
"Ah, no, that's not it."
"Now that I think about it, Senior Captain Isaac can't read, right? Let's start with literacy lessons. It would've been better if you'd started from the beginning… but of course, it's never a bad thing to start now. It's never too late to learn. Studying is always a good thing, no matter when you begin."
"..."
The wicked and relentless Ernest Krieger set his claws on Isaac as well. Isaac didn't know much yet, but he had a hunger to learn—though at the same time, he kept trying to deny that desire within himself. For Ernest, the greatest joy was corrupting someone like that, helping them embrace their own longing for knowledge, and turning that small, unremarkable brain into a trove of learning. Ernest had no intention whatsoever of letting such a tempting prey go.
"I used to think Ernest ruined Marie, but maybe it's the other way around—maybe Marie ruined Ernest instead."
"Why?"
"He ended up like this from teaching Marie."
"But... is it really ruining? Sharing knowledge and helping others grow wiser can't be a bad thing, can it?"
"No, it's bad. That guy's a monster—with an obsession for teaching that's driven him completely mad."
Robert and Jonas whispered to each other as they watched Ernest at work. In truth, though, they both knew the real reason Ernest was so unreasonably passionate about teaching these days. It made them feel a bit melancholy.
Ernest was the 1st Platoon Leader and the Deputy Company Commander.
He was almost too competent for his own good, and he staggered under burdens he didn't even need to carry. Both Robert and Jonas understood, at least in part, that Ernest was desperately trying to save his friends.
If Ernest were only thinking of saving himself, he wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. No matter where you threw him, he'd be able to take care of himself.
Robert, mentioning Marie, wondered aloud if she was safe. Belliang Baltracher's assault, the Aeblon people's rebellion, and above all, the sheer terror that war itself inspires.
He wanted to know what Marie was doing and where she was, but for a platoon leader scraping by on the front lines, finding out anything about an Aeblonian like Marie Fiders was impossible.
All he could do was trust that she was alive and keep fighting. Surviving his own situation was hard enough as it was.
Lunch was kept simple.
Soldiers who had gone entire days without eating—caught up in nonstop fighting—tried to eat as much as they could.
But when Yurgen admonished them to eat only a little because they'd be charging soon, and suggested they cut up some biscuit or jerky to save and nibble on if they grew hungry later, everyone adjusted their portions.
Regardless of rank, every company member respected Yurgen deeply, and followed his advice faithfully.
After all, they believed that as long as they listened to Yurgen, they'd survive.
Ernest watched this quietly. More than a hundred men staking their lives on the words and presence of a single person. Not just being led from behind with shouted orders, but watching that person with their own eyes on the field.
What kind of crushing pressure must that one man be feeling?
"Do one last check before we begin."
"Yes, sir."
Following Yurgen's orders, Ernest finished inspecting the condition and gear of all the 1st Platoon members. The soldiers were definitely scared and tense, but they weren't in any state where they couldn't fight.
Even those who'd been laughing and chatting to chase away their fear were now breathing in shallow, trembling bursts, eyes fixed on the far side of the forest.
"Is the Battalion Commander not coming?"
"It's probably better if he doesn't come. There's no need to stir things up for no reason like someone else did. It won't do anyone any good."
As Jonas anxiously looked around for Levin just before the battle, Robert snickered and commented.
Jonas glanced at Robert, looking a bit thrown off.
Jonas truly hadn't expected Robert to be laughing at a time like this.
When there was still time before the battle or when the situation was less tense, Jonas would laugh and joke right along with him.
But now, with less than ten minutes left until noon, Jonas just couldn't bring himself to laugh.
Hiding the trembling in his hands and feet was all he could manage.
Thunk!
"Ugh!"
Yurgen smacked Robert on the back of the head.
Even though Robert was wearing his helmet, his head jerked forward.
Startled, Robert whipped around to look at Yurgen.
"Get it together. Is this really the time to be laughing?"
"…I'm sorry."
When Yurgen growled at him with a sharp glare, Robert immediately shrank back, mumbling, as if his laughter from just a moment ago had never happened.
Yurgen looked at Robert for a while, his expression showing how hard this was to bear.
Trying to endure this with a clear mind was nearly impossible, so Robert was making himself believe this situation was some ridiculous joke.
It was so hard and frightening that he wanted to run away—this was how he tried to protect himself.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if that actually helped him cope.
But lose your grip on reality completely, and you end up sticking your head right where you're going to die.
"Keep your head on straight. Understand?"
"Yes."
After hearing Robert's reply, Yurgen turned to Jonas.
Jonas, his face pale as a sheet, was so tense he just kept swallowing dryly.
"You make sure to keep it together too, got it? Don't try to do anything brave or stupid—just stay right behind the soldiers and move quietly."
Yurgen lowered his voice to a whisper. The soldiers didn't need to hear this.
"…Yes, Company Commander."
Jonas replied in a small voice.
Yurgen gave both platoon leaders a pat on the shoulder, then shifted his gaze to Ernest, who was standing a little ways off by himself.
"..."
Ernest stood motionless like a withered old tree, quietly gazing toward the far side of the forest, shrouded in the midday sunlight and gentle drizzle.
It felt as if everything was shrouded in mist.
Trying to find a path in here would be almost impossible.
Thump.
Yurgen passed by Ernest in silence, giving his shoulder a single, firm pat.
Ernest looked back at him, then turned his gaze forward again.
...
The forest was wrapped in silence. The attack was now at hand. Everyone was tense, ready to charge at a moment's notice.
"Hff... hff..."
Someone's ragged breathing could be heard. Maybe it was a suppressed sob.
"Prepare to charge!"
"Prepare to charge!"
Loud shouts rang out from behind, quickly repeated by the officers as they echoed down the entire line.
Ernest slowly turned his head, meeting the eyes of the 1st Platoon members looking his way.
He glanced at his friends, at Company Commander Yurgen, and then at the units around them.
Ernest blinked slowly.
In his mind, the tactical map overlapped with the scene before his eyes, the visuals in front of him contrasting against what he'd memorized.
Thanks to the Rangers' hard work, the map was astonishingly accurate, and as a result, Ernest was able to anticipate battle developments in areas far beyond what would normally be allowed for a mere Platoon Leader.
Winning or losing, honestly, didn't matter to Ernest.
All he wanted was for everyone to make it back alive.
That made it all the harder—Ernest had to fight against the creeping sense of despair with everything he had.
It was truly a struggle.
"Chaaarge!"
Beeeep—! Beeeep—! Beeeep—!
"Charge! Charge!"
"Charge forward!"
"Waaaa!"
"Aaaah!"
The order to charge was given, and the sharp shrill of whistles tore through the stillness of the forest.
Officers shouted for the charge, pushing the soldiers forward, and the soldiers, desperate to shake off their fear, let out cries that could have been either cheers or screams as they scrambled out of the trench and began to run.
"Keep the pace!"
"Stay in formation!"
"Don't run too fast! If you tire out, you won't be able to fight!"
The Squad Leaders, who had already been quietly briefed by the 2nd Company officers, carefully encouraged the soldiers, keeping them steady and making sure their pace didn't break.
2nd Company's charge wasn't particularly slow, nor was it fast.
It was just right—perfectly paced.
In contrast, most of the other units had their soldiers shouting to shake off their fear, sprinting forward with all their might.
So even though 2nd Company was charging at a sufficient speed, they naturally began to fall a little behind.
"Adler! Adler! Check the distance to 3rd Company!"
"3rd Company is moving a bit quicker!"
"Tell them to adjust their speed!"
"Yes, sir!"
Yurgen coordinated the speed between the companies through Jonas, the 3rd Platoon Leader, who was running right alongside 3rd Company.
Yurgen glanced to his left.
"Krieger!"
"Ferdinand!"
Yurgen called out to Ernest, and almost at the same moment, Ernest called out to Ferdinand.
Even with the roar of the charging Imperial Army all around, Ernest's voice sliced sharply through the trees as it carried across the forest.
1st Company, which had pulled ahead, slowed their pace a bit after Ernest's shout.
"Waaaah!"
Bababang!
Pow!
Bang! Bang-bang!
Gunfire started ringing out from the right flank, where the leading soldiers had sprinted ahead.
In the noon forest, where the clouds had thinned and sunlight filtered through, the pale Balt Light looked too faint to make anything out clearly.
"Stick to the right! Move to the right!"
At Yurgen's shout, 2nd Company began slanting slowly to the right as planned.
Thanks to keeping their pace steady, they still had a bit of breathing room before encountering the enemy.
1st Company also gradually veered right, edging up closely to the left side of 2nd Company.
Now that they'd made it this far, even Ferdinand couldn't insist on doing things his own way.
If they charged ahead on their own, 1st Company would just end up fighting the enemy alone and get wiped out.
Even from a tactical standpoint, they had to stick tight to 2nd Company and maintain the formation.
"Are you sure this is going to work!"
"It'll be fine!"
Sven, the 3rd Squad Leader, looked to Ernest, uncertain, and Ernest replied firmly that it would.
When charging in a straight line, if one side surges forward, the troops beside them have to speed up and run diagonally to protect that exposed flank.
The greater the difference in speed, the steeper the slant becomes.
If the soldier next to you suddenly pulls ahead and leaves your side wide open, catching up is hard—and running forward alone is terrifying—so you just turn and end up running behind your own line.
Taking this natural change in formation into account, it could only be said that the 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment, who kept their pace and ended up slipping in behind the faster-charging units, "had no choice because the formation broke down." It was something they could persuasively explain away.
Of course, if some idiot actually believed the soldiers could all run at the exact same speed through the forest and maintain a perfect formation, there was nothing to be done about that.
How could you possibly reason with a "commander" who didn't even understand tactics at such a basic, fundamental level?
"Aagh!"
"Get up! Hurry!"
As they ran through the forest, soldiers tripped, fell, and tumbled—it was utter chaos.
Still, things were far better for them than for the units that had rushed ahead.
"There's a pit! Watch out!"
"W-whoa!"
3rd Platoon, who had been running well, suddenly recoiled in shock at a pit that appeared in front of them.
Inside, sharp wooden stakes were sticking up from the bottom, and there were Imperial Army soldiers screaming for help and begging to be saved.
"Watch the ground! Watch the ground!"
"Aaagh!"
Even with all the warnings, it was impossible to avoid every trap the enemy had laid with such malicious intent.
From the start, hardly anyone could recognize a pit in time.
One of Robert's 2nd Platoon members, while running, suddenly had his foot sink straight into the earth and fell with a crash. The stakes inside the pit didn't pierce the sole of his boot, but even with boots on, his ankle twisted violently, and the forward momentum wrenched his knee painfully as well.
"Get up! Hurry!"
"M-my leg… my leg…!"
"There's no time for that! Move, now!"
Robert, who had been running behind, tried to help the soldier who was groaning in pain to his feet, but Yurgen shoved him forward, forcing him to keep running.
"No, don't! Don't leave me here! Please!"
"Go back! You idiot!" Robert shouted back over his shoulder as the fallen soldier pleaded.
At Robert's words, the injured soldier realized he wasn't hurt badly enough to die, but was in no condition to continue fighting.
"Heuh… heuh… heuhh…"
Panting, he began crawling back the way they'd come—whimpering in pain, relieved at the thought of surviving without having to fight the enemy, smiling through the tears at the joy of escape, and then, in the same moment, feeling sickened by himself for being glad while his comrades charged ahead.
"The enemy!"
"Kill them! Kill them!"
"You bastards!"
"Aaaah!"
As they ran, the 2nd Company suddenly found themselves at the very heart of the battlefield.
The drizzle shimmered under the midday sun, almost blinding.
Looking at the sparkling, pale Balt Light in between, it felt for a moment as if they'd stumbled into the forest of a beautiful fairy tale.
Bang! Bang bang bang!
"Filthy invaders!"
"Die! All of you, die!"
The Belliang Army, hiding behind trenches and earthen walls, fired their powder guns and screamed curses.
The air was thick with smoke, and it was nearly impossible to make out their faces through the haze.
Ernest, who had diligently studied the Belliang language, understood every word of their venomous shouts.
"Charge! Chaaaarge!"
"Uwaaaaah!"
"Push forward! Don't give them time to reload!"
On the battlefield, now a scene of utter chaos, the vanguard charged forward, braving a hail of bullets with their bodies as they leapt into the enemy's trench.
Splash!
The Belliang soldiers, frantically trying to reload their powder guns, saw the Imperial Army vaulting into their trench and swung their pouches to scatter gunpowder everywhere.
"Aaargh!"
An Belliang soldier got gunpowder in his eyes, collapsed to the ground, and thrashed about, screaming in pain.
An Imperial Army soldier kicked him in the head, then hurriedly drove his bayonet into the unprotected small of his back, where there was no armor.
Bang!
Before the Imperial soldier could even pull out his bayonet, a Belliang soldier fired from atop the trench, piercing his chest.
Bang! Bang!
Bullets rained down from the hill at the Imperial soldiers who had just entered the trench.
Though they wore breastplates, the close-range shots punched holes straight through.
Dead soldiers dropped where they stood, their comrades trampling over their corpses as more Imperial soldiers piled into the trench.
"Dieee!"
"Aaaah!"
Soldiers from both sides lunged at each other with bayonets drawn.
The Belliang soldiers, still clutching powder guns, had no time left to reload and could only charge.
The Imperial Army's new recruits, lacking skill in marksmanship, fumbled so much with their weapons that they couldn't reload in time either—inevitably, the fighting devolved into close quarters combat.
"Reload! Reload!"
"Huff! "Huff! Huff!"
While our soldiers were locked in close quarters combat with the enemy, the Imperial soldiers who had leapt into the trench frantically finished reloading their guns.
Bang! Bang bang bang! Bang!
"Up above! They're above us!"
Bullets from Balt Guns rained down on those Imperial soldiers from atop the low earthen wall of the hill.
"Clear them out up there!"
Crash!
"Aaaargh!"
At the company commander's order, a Baltracher unleashed all her Balt Psychokinesis, sweeping across the top of the hill. Part of the earthen wall collapsed, sending the Belliang soldiers who had been taking cover behind it tumbling down en masse.
"You bastards!"
"Kill them! Kill them all!"
Terrified by the enemy's hail of bullets from above, the Imperial soldiers mercilessly riddled the fallen enemies with bullets, turning them into Swiss cheese.
Even that wasn't enough—they charged past, driving their bayonets into the corpses as they went.
"It's an enemy Baltracher!"
"Enemy Balt...!"
Wham!
The Belliang Baltracher charged straight into the Imperial soldier who was raising the alarm, shattering him, and kept barreling forward until she collided with the Imperial Baltracher.
Crash!
"Ugh!"
Amid the chaos of the battlefield, one of the Imperial Baltrachers, caught off guard, hastily put up a barrier—but it was instantly broken through.
Bang!
The Belliang Baltracher, holding a pistol, squeezed the trigger the moment the barrier was breached.
The bullet shot straight through the Imperial Baltracher's chest.
Immediately after, she tossed aside the spent powder pistol and drew another, already loaded, from her belt.
Boom!
"You bastard!"
But she couldn't escape in time.
Three other Imperial Baltrachers nearby seized her all at once with Balt Psychokinesis, pinning her in place.
"You...! Filthy invaders...!"
The Belliang Baltracher screamed, struggling to maintain her barrier.
"You killed my brother!"
"What are you talking about? Just shut up and die!"
The Belliang Baltracher cried out, not yet twenty years old, but the Imperial Baltrachers restraining her—also not yet twenty—couldn't even understand her words.
Even as they fought face-to-face, none of them knew who they were fighting, what they were fighting for, or why.
"Argh...!"
Crack!
In the end, the barrier shattered, and the Belliang Baltracher was crushed flat, reduced to a bloody mass.
"They've broken through! Move in! Go, go!"
"Yeahhh!"
As close quarters combat erupted in the trenches, the Imperial Army gained the upper hand thanks to the power of the Balt Guns, pushing forward and turning it into a one-sided massacre.
The Belliang Army now had to fight not only the enemies charging at them head-on but also those attacking from the flanks along the trench.
Yet, with their powder guns needing at least twenty seconds to reload even at the fastest, they couldn't possibly fight them all.
"We're going in too! Bruno, cover our allies! Isaac, keep an eye out for enemy Baltrachers!"
"Understood!"
"Take it slow! Slowly, got it? Don't rush in! You'll get yourself killed if you rush in like that!"
"Yes, sir!"
With that, the 2nd Company charged into the trench, following the path carved out by their comrades who had already paid with their lives.
"To the left! Left! Move left! There could be enemies in the blind spots! Stay sharp and move carefully!"
The narrow, twisting trench was now a mire of blood and rainwater, so clogged with bodies strewn across the ground that it was impossible to walk without stepping on them.
As Ernest pushed his men forward into the trench, he was overcome with guilt.
But every time he saw another body fall, that guilt faded.
When your own survival was on the line, guilt was a luxury you couldn't afford.
There would be time to feel it later, if there was a later to survive for.
Before leaping into the trench himself, Ernest glanced to the rear left—where the 1st Company was charging in with renewed speed.
Ernest pointed toward the left side of the trench, then dove in after his men.
"Our allies are fighting inside the trench! Charge!"
"Yeahhh!"
Spurred on by Ferdinand's shout, the 1st Company charged in at full force.
In one surge, they too plunged into the trench.
The enemy put up almost no resistance.
Bang! Bang bang!
"Aaagh!"
"Help me!"
Since the Belliang Army was completely absorbed in fighting Ernest's 2nd Company, 1st Platoon inside the trench, they didn't even notice the attack from the 1st Company—leaving themselves completely exposed and unable to mount any defense.
Standing atop the trench, the 1st Company ruthlessly fired round after round, continuing until there was no one left standing in a red uniform.
"We're pulling back! Linking up with the 2nd Company again!"
Seeing that the 1st Company had jumped safely into the trench, Ernest led the 1st Platoon back to regroup with the 2nd Company.
For just a split second, as they both jumped into the trench, Ferdinand and Ernest's eyes met.
But that was all.
Neither spared the other any further thought.
Despite all the conflict it took to get here, both Ernest and Ferdinand trusted each other.
They trusted in each other's abilities, of course, but more than that, they trusted that neither would ever let a friend die.
At the very least, standing side by side, there was no need to fear being attacked from the flanks or rear.
Ernest, who made it possible for the 1st Company to leap safely into the trench by striking at the enemy's side with just one swift move with his platoon, and Ferdinand, who instantly understood Ernest's intentions from a single gesture and ordered the charge to capture the trench—each knew their job and parted ways without a backward glance.
Inside the trench, the soldiers continued fighting, killing, dying, and falling without pause.
The Imperial Army's Balt Guns gave them the advantage, but in the narrow, twisting trench, there were far too many variables.
When the Belliang Army, lying in ambush around the corners, launched a surprise attack and close quarters combat broke out, everyone was squeezed together so tightly that even if their guns were loaded, they couldn't shoot for fear of hitting their own men.
Pale shafts of Balt Light emitted by the Baltrachers swept across the battlefield, only to be snuffed out in vain by the very same Baltrachers crashing down like meteors.
Battles flaring up over such a wide area, all at once, inflicted an unimaginable level of casualties on both sides in a matter of moments.
In just the first five minutes after the fighting began, the number of dead and wounded had already reached the hundreds.
"Retreat! Retreat! Fall back to the next trench!"
Once it looked like the trench would be completely overrun, the Belliang Army finally gave the order to retreat.
Those Belliang soldiers who hadn't yet been surrounded by the Imperial Army scrambled out of the trenches in a panic and bolted toward the rear.
"We surrender! We surrender!"
"Please spare us!"
The Belliang soldiers left behind lost their will to fight and surrendered.
They threw down their weapons and fell to their knees, begging for their lives.
"Kill them all!"
The Imperial Army poured bullets into the surrendering Belliang soldiers, slaughtering them without hesitation.
There was no room for doubt.
Moments ago, they had been at each other's throats with guns and swords, and the battle still wasn't over.
Taking prisoners meant devoting resources to control them, and if anything went wrong, those prisoners could rise up and throw the army into chaos.
Not a single enemy could be left alive.
If you looked down from above at the soldiers fighting and surging through the hellish trenches, they would appear no different from ants crawling through tunnels.
No matter what tragedies, fears, or despair were swirling inside those trenches, to the people now sitting in their chairs and looking down at the map, it would all seem irrelevant.
"Victory, heavy casualties."
After the battle ends, that's the sort of report they'll receive—and aside from the single most important fact, that they won, everything else will be forgotten.