These were colossal beings entirely clad in steel, their bodies made of steel plates and riveted structures. The cannon muzzles of steam cannons protruded from the mouths of these war beasts, instilling intense fear in the Bretonnian knights and soldiers.
The Golden Griffons' exhaust pipes spewed vast clouds of steam, and their steel armor shells were adorned with scriptures from the church and statues engraved with the golden double-headed eagle. Imperial engineers inside these steel behemoths maneuvered these unparalleled titans.
"For Charlemagne! For the Empire!!!" Elector Umberto shouted, his voice crystal clear across the battlefield: "Fire!"
Five steam tanks fired simultaneously, their steam cannons tearing through the efforts of the Bretonnian army. The Bretonnian knights, who had almost reached the third line, suffered heavy casualties from the steam cannon fire and were forced to retreat temporarily. Almost in the blink of an eye, the balance of victory shifted again.
On the walls of Helmgarde, various Electors and their heirs and courtiers watched the battle unfold.
"Casvan is too conservative. The Imperial army was already showing signs of defeat. If he had committed all his reserves and led the charge himself, the Imperial army might have collapsed by now," said François, clad in blue and white full plate armor, with the Unicorn Sword at his waist. Duke Wimfort spoke to those standing beside him, including Ryan and Julius, "At that time, the Imperial steam tanks had not yet crossed the river, and a golden opportunity was missed."
"Casvan had his reasons," Ryan nodded, the Champion of the Lake Lady's face showing a hint of helplessness. Humanity's precious strength should not be wasted on civil wars, but often only a war could bring people to reason: "Emperor Karl-Franz's elite knights could arrive at any time, and Casvan needed enough reserves to ensure he wasn't crushed by the suddenly appearing Imperial knights."
"You make a valid point, Lord Ryan," Oleg von Zhukov, heir to Elector Walmon, agreed profoundly: "The situation on a battlefield changes in the blink of an eye, and there are never absolutely correct choices."
Ryan disliked one type of person the most: those who are wise after the event. These individuals always like to gather all kinds of reasons for the defeat of the losing side, then when asked, they expound as if they had predicted it all along: See? He was bound to fail if he didn't act in this way.
Or: With so many reasons, victory was certain.
However, war is often not so straightforward. The dynamics of a battlefield change moment by moment, and in many closely matched battles, a major victory or defeat can hinge on a single moment. Some decisions might seem right at the time but turn out to be mistakes in hindsight. While clear mistakes or incompetency by commanders can be criticized, most of the time, that's not the case.
After Casvan declared war on the Empire, there was a sentiment among the Bretonnian nobility that it was unwise for Casvan to attack the Empire when slightly outmatched. However, Ryan thought Casvan was clever. The Duke of Paralon's territories were impoverished, annually in deficit, riddled with internal strife, and relations with the Empire were poor and long-standing friction existed.
If he didn't act, the knights within his own territories might have turned against him.
As for the discussions about strength, they were even more ludicrous. If battles were only about the number of troops, then wars wouldn't need to be fought; people could just compare troop numbers. Savior Ludwig had gathered an army of three hundred thousand with the help of Bretonnia, Dwarfs, and High Elves, consolidating all of the Empire's forces, while the Chaos armies numbered over five hundred thousand, with a standard Chaos warrior being capable of defeating several human soldiers of similar rank. Did Ludwig give up in such a scenario?
The appearance of steam tanks quickly stabilized the situation. Many of the Imperial troops, seeing these steel beasts finally cross the river to support them, were greatly heartened. They reformed under Elector Umberto's call and rejoined the Imperial lines.
The previously wavering morale of the Imperial troops stabilized, and both sides became entrenched in a bitter struggle. The Bretonnian ranger knights and kingdom knights, after repeated charges, began to slow down, forced into close combat.
On the plains before Helmgarde city, the landscape was filled with the figures of human troops engaged in battle.
The situation was still advantageous for Bretonnia,
but the Imperial troops held their ground stubbornly with the aid of steam tanks. The knights tried to break through the lines but were repelled by continuous cannon and musket fire. The steam tanks were too powerful; whether it was infantry swords, pikes, serf archers' arrows, or knights' lances, hitting the steam tanks' steel plates only resulted in them bouncing off helplessly. Only a Grail Knight could cut through such sturdy steel.
However, Duke Paralon's military endeavor lacked the support of the kingdom and the Lady of the Lake, and his ranks were devoid of Grail Knights. Although his forces were still in a favorable position in this war, relying on the protection and firepower of the steam tanks, Casvan and his army could only engage in a futile struggle with the Imperial forces.
Casvan regretted in his heart that if he had committed all his reserves at the start of the battle and beaten the Imperial forces before the steam tanks arrived, victory might have been his. But now, regret was useless; he led the remaining reserves into battle.
Seeing Casvan finally commit his last reserves, Elector Umberto smiled.
"It's time! Fire the signal flare!" the Elector shouted to the Imperial engineers.
"Fire the signal flare!" An Imperial engineer drew a signal pistol and shot it into the sky.
"Whooosh!" The signal flare streaked across the sky.
At this point, around 8:30 AM, Casvan and Umberto's forces had been engaged in fierce battle for an hour and a half, and the situation on the plains remained evenly matched. Bretonnia's army, with a clear advantage in knights, formed a dominant force with large groups of ranger knights and kingdom knights. The Imperial troops, protected by steam tanks, formed a solid line and showed no signs of collapse.
A beautiful rainbow stretched from Mount Doom across the sky.
Following that, the thunderous sound of hooves was heard.
The distinctive call of Karl-Franz's mount, "Death's Claw," came from the mountain paths of Mount Doom, accompanied by the orderly shouts of the Rick Guard.
"Rick Guard! Defend the nation! Defend the Emperor!"
"For the Emperor!"
"For the Emperor!"
The Emperor's standard, held high by flag officer Ludwig, rose above the three hundred Rick Guard, more than a hundred demi-griffon knights, and hundreds of Imperial knights as they gradually appeared from the mountain paths.
Imperial troop morale surged, and soldiers cried out in disbelief.
"The Emperor has come! The Emperor has not abandoned us!"
"The Emperor's knights have come to our rescue!"
"For Karl-Franz!"
Casvan roared in disbelief: "Impossible, Karl-Franz couldn't have completed the mountain path flank in just an hour and a half, it's impossible!"
On the mountain paths of Mount Doom, Emperor Karl-Franz, wielding the warhammer Ghal Maraz, watched the battle unfold below. After confirming that the Imperial troops were still holding, the Emperor nodded: "Elector Umberto is fighting alone; they've held on until now, creating an opportunity for us. Now, it's our turn to support them."
"Your Majesty, please allow me to clear the way for you, then you're on your own," said the Grand Alchemist Balthazar Gelt, riding the Pegasus "Quicksilver" from behind the Emperor.
It was this Grand Alchemist who had used his magic, the Goldwind Spell, to transform countless narrow paths on the mountain that could only accommodate one person into paths wide enough for two horses to ride abreast, saving the knights a tremendous amount of time.
"Hard work, Gelt, do what you must, and then leave the rest to us," the Emperor nodded slowly.
Thus, the Grand Alchemist began to cast his spell, a ritual so powerful that even the knights, who knew nothing of magic, could feel the ear-piercing tearing sounds and see the visible golden magical winds.
"Ultimate Alchemy! The Great Transmutation Spell!" After a five-minute long casting process, Grand Alchemist Gelt raised his golden staff high, thousands of threads of mana forming countless energies of the great spell. The magic was woven and guided, the golden light spread across the sky, and the rainbow in the sky was twisted and then remelted under the Grand Alchemist's power.
A bridge made of the Goldwind appeared on the mountain path, forming a sky bridge that led directly to the battlefield.
Karl-Franz, riding the griffon, leaped onto the brilliant rainbow bridge.
The Emperor raised his warhammer, in the morning sunlight, among the grey mountains, on the rainbow bridge's curtain of light, he roared with all his strength and expectation, the mountains echoing back.
"For the Empire! For Charlemagne! For glory!!!"
"For glory! For the Empire!"
With that, the Emperor and his knights charged across the rainbow bridge, heading for the battlefield. Behind him, a thousand
elite knights were ready to follow; whenever the Emperor and his knights were together, any formidable enemy would fail before them.
He believed.
"The Emperor! The Emperor has crossed the rainbow!"
"Follow the Emperor!"
"Advance! Imperial Knights!"
"For Charlemagne, for the Empire!"
A thousand knights followed Karl-Franz across the rainbow bridge without hesitation, filled with courage, conviction, and a determination to win, rolling toward the battlefield.
The thousand infantry attempting to block the Emperor and his knights' advance were already terrified at the sight of the Imperial knights crossing the sky, their morale shattered as they dropped their weapons and fled in screams.
Casvan's forces hadn't even managed to organize properly when Karl-Franz, leading his knights like a giant siege hammer, smashed into the Bretonnian ranks from the side.
The hammer fell, shields shattered, waves rolled, the Rick Guard crushed everything, demi-griffon knights rode powerful beasts tearing through the enemy, using their halberds to pierce any resistance, Imperial knights followed the Emperor's charge, the onslaught from the side completely destroyed the chance of a Bretonnian victory.
"The time to counterattack has come! Golden Fleece knights! Charge with me!" Elector Umberto finally saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. With his holy sword in hand, he launched a counterattack, the Golden Fleece knights loudly responding, forming a wave of counterattack.
"This is a perfect flank charge, the battle is decided," Ryan said softly from atop the wall.
François nodded silently.
Besieged on both sides, unable to sustain a prolonged fight, Casvan's large army finally collapsed.
"The Lady's protection has been lost!"
"Help!!"
"We need reinforcements! We need reinforcements!"
"Lady! Please grant us strength!"
The serf infantry on the right wing, hit by the Emperor's charge, quickly collapsed, the rout spreading rapidly to the center and left flanks. Despite the knights' attempts to salvage the situation, they were powerless as the serf infantry and sergeants' mass rout began, sweeping the ranger knights who loudly prayed to the Lady of the Lake, pleading for her to grant them courage and strength.
But their goddess never favored the defeated; only the devout and the strong knights could catch a fleeting glimpse of her favor, and the faltering and collapsing ranger knights were naturally not worthy of the Lady's favor.
By 9:30 AM, Bretonnia was thoroughly at a disadvantage,
And then, as the army was completely collapsing, only a few kingdom knights remained, protecting Duke Casvan. His deputy, Count Karel, urgently cried: "Duke! The battle is lost! Flee, we will cover you!"
"Damn it! Just give me another hour, just one hour, and I could have crushed Elector Umberto and the Imperial army!" Casvan roared in frustration.
It was so close; at that time, the first two lines of the Imperial formation had already collapsed, with only the third line, led personally by Elector Umberto, still holding. If not for the steam tanks' prolonged movement into the battlefield, Casvan and his knights would have secured victory.
Even after the steam tanks entered the battlefield, Casvan was still pressing the Imperial forces with the numerical superiority of his knights. If Karl-Franz had not managed to return in time with the Imperial knights, he could have still defeated the Imperial army.
But that had happened, and now, his army was defeated!
Defeat spread like a crumbling mountain, and Casvan knew he couldn't afford to be stubborn; he had to retreat: "Alright! Command the army to retreat along the mountain path! Let the sergeants and ranger knights cover our retreat! Those who can't continue fighting are allowed to surrender!"
"Yes!" The situation was irretrievably dire. Out of an army of fifteen thousand, less than two thousand could still heed commands. Ranger knights scattered in all directions, the hills were covered with kneeling serfs surrendering, and the Imperial army launched a proud counterattack. Karl-Franz led his Rick Guard and demi-griffon knights, sweeping all before them. The Emperor's valor was surprising to Casvan, for compared to the Bretonnian Knight King, the Emperor of the Empire often excelled in politics but seemed less capable in personal valor and military skill.
The Emperor of the Empire changes every twenty to fifty years, whereas in Bretonnia, established for a thousand years, Richard was only the ninth Knight King.
Casvan still had a contingency plan; he had preemptively sent two infantry battalions and fifty knights to occupy the retreat path, and a force was still available on the mountain path to support their retreat.
Imperial troops were busy capturing prisoners, especially ordinary Imperial soldiers for whom a knight's ransom could cover a year's military pay. Large groups of routed troops and fleeing knights covered for Casvan and a few kingdom knights, as Casvan led his knights to retreat along the mountain path of
Mount Doom.
The duke didn't dare let his Pegasus fly, as clearly his Pegasus was no match for Death's Claw.
"Your Majesty! Casvan is escaping! We can't let him get away!" Imperial General Kurt Helborg noticed Casvan attempting to flee.
"Rick Guard, follow me!" Karl-Franz, splattered with human blood, was not particularly thrilled by the victory; a civil war victory wasn't something to boast about. The Emperor simply stated calmly, "He won't get far; I've already arranged for someone."
"Someone? Do we have other reinforcements?" Helborg asked in confusion: "All the troops we brought from Brunswick are here."
"Yes," Karl-Franz said calmly: "They will help us stop Casvan."
"May I ask, Your Majesty, who are they?"
"They are..."
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