Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The battle for the high ground lasted nearly half an hour. Senior officers such as Schroeder, Claude, and Tirpitz personally led the charge and eventually recaptured the artillery position.
Despite the mercenaries' extensive battlefield experience, they could not withstand the unified assault of the 600 Alden soldiers. The mercenaries, mostly longbowmen, were not adept at close combat and ultimately had to retreat. The ordinary soldiers sent to protect the longbowmen, having witnessed the devastating impact of the rifle volleys, were terrified and fled.
In Paul's design, his army did not follow the elite soldier approach but relied more on discipline and organization. Soldiers were expected to obey orders absolutely, even if these orders were not optimal or had flaws. They didn't need to be masters of every skill but had to perform their own roles well, achieving their tasks through collective organization and self-sacrifice, much like ants or bees.
Of course, due to the limitations of the era, the so-called "elite soldiers" were not very elite. Alden's soldiers, however, were among the better-trained of their time, especially in literacy, which gave them an edge over most armies.
Overall, the Duke's army faced a formidable opponent, one that was at least a generation ahead in capability.
Leaving behind a heap of wounded soldiers groaning on the ground, the Duke's troops retreated into the woods in the opposite direction from the Alden army.
Schroeder ordered a swift cleanup of the battlefield, with the priority being to check the condition of the artillery.
Fortunately, despite signs of movement, none of the cannons had been taken; they were all still on the position, though more than half of the gun carriages were damaged.
"Why didn't you move the cannons earlier?" Schroeder inquired of the prisoners left on the field.
"The Southern mercenaries, boasting of their knowledge of all weapons, wanted to use these thunder hammers against you. However, when they saw you advancing and realized they couldn't move them in time, they simply destroyed the carriages."
Schroeder chuckled at the prisoners' answer. Artillery was a novel weapon, and despite the mercenaries' extensive experience, they were unfamiliar with it, especially since the gunpowder had already been removed during their retreat.
"Immediately use the intact cannons to fire at the enemy and organize the artillerymen to repair the damaged carriages," Schroeder commanded.
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Fergus and Emmerson were anxiously awaiting news.
Previously, they had sent a detachment to attack the Alden artillery deployment from a different angle. When they saw the signal flags raised, indicating success, they were elated. According to the plan, the troops on the high ground would coordinate with the forces attacking from the front to encircle the Alden army. They saw some troops moving towards the high ground, and Fergus promptly ordered the rested troops to launch a second attack, either to eliminate the enemy left behind or to force the reinforcements attacking the high ground to fall back.
The subsequent events disappointed Fergus and Emmerson. The Alden troops left behind remained steadfast, and the cavalry and infantry at the front continued to suffer losses. To make matters worse, the flag on the high ground had fallen.
"They've returned!" a servant rushed over to report.
A group of dejected, shame-faced soldiers approached Fergus and Emmerson.
Without needing to ask, Fergus's cold expression revealed his dissatisfaction. "What about the thunder hammers?"
The leading squad leader lowered his head and shook it.
Fergus was stunned. "None were brought back?"
There was a long silence.
"Useless!" The mercenary commander, enraged, raised his whip and struck his subordinate.
"After being up there for so long, you couldn't even bring back a few?"
The squad leader, in pain from the beating, attempted to explain, "Lord Fergus, although the thunder hammers were mounted on wheeled carriages, the Alden troops took all the horses with them during their retreat and even locked the wheels. It was impossible to move them far by manpower alone, so we had to figure out how to use them on the spot against the Alden."
Fergus stopped whipping, his face darkened. "Did you get anything out of it?" He had noticed that the thunder hammers on the high ground had been inactive, and it was clear his men had not figured out how to operate them.
"Uh... We didn't figure out how to use them before the counterattack came too quickly. However, we noticed that there were fire bowls next to them, suggesting they are related to fire."
Fergus glared. "Do you need to tell me that? I saw the smoke from the launch!"
The squad leader then hurriedly added, "One more important detail—the high ground was filled with a strong, strange smell, which seems to be... sulfur. The peculiar smell should be the result of burning sulfur."
"Sulfur?"
Both Fergus and Emmerson questioned simultaneously, exchanging glances. Sulfur was a common incendiary, but its burning alone didn't match the thunderous effect of the thunder hammers. There must be something else involved.
Emmerson, dismounting, asked, "Did you examine the thunder hammers' structure closely?"
The squad leader rubbed the back of his head. "The structure was quite simple—just a large metal tube, some made of bronze, others of iron."
"Once you return to the camp, draw me a detailed diagram."
"Yes, sir."
As Emmerson and his team discussed the thunder hammers, the Alden army began to take the initiative and attack. The remaining cannons fired on them, causing many front-line troops to retreat in the face of incoming artillery fire.
Both Fergus and Emmerson could see that after failing in the flanking attack and several front assaults, the troops' morale had plummeted to its lowest point.
"Damn it, I've never encountered such a tough opponent with so few men," Fergus complained inwardly. In previous wars, he had faced tough opponents before, but that was when forces were evenly matched. Today, even with reinforcements, their numbers were three times greater than the enemy's, yet they were still in such a miserable state...
Fergus looked north, seeing the Alden forces advancing in a perfectly aligned formation, creating the illusion of a moving wall, imposing and overwhelming.
"Emmerson?"
The mercenary leader spoke with none of his previous arrogance.
Emmerson, reluctantly, nodded. "Sigh... Withdraw."
The battle on the Duke's border came to an end.
(End of the Chapter)
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