Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 445 The Great Alliance Marches Forward (18)

Chris Varley watched helplessly as the best infantry battalion of the newly formed Reclamation Army crumbled, and the fleeing soldiers were hacked to death from behind by rebel riders like helpless children.

Amidst the indiscriminate slaughter of the fleeing “rebel” cavalry, Lieutenant Colonel Valé spotted the wounded cavalry officer who had annihilated half of his force.

Meanwhile, in another "puppet army" formation that had not yet been destroyed, Losang immediately spotted the officer in conspicuous attire.

In the chaos of the battlefield, he spotted the rebel cavalry leader who had wiped out half of his troops. Meanwhile, Loson found the conspicuous colonel among the still-intact puppet army ranks.

"There! The provincial bastards are there—let go of them!" Loson roared, roughly breaking free from his subordinates who were trying to force him to retreat. He pointed directly at the artillery officer in the provincial uniform: "Go find the cavalry of Bianjiang County! Get them to move closer to us! Go find Petőfi! Tell him to bring back the enemy's routed soldiers! Bring them back to charge the remaining square! Go! Go!"

"Senior, Petőfi is gone." The reply was very low.

Lossson was momentarily stunned, then shoved the person who answered hard: "That's it! He's gone, so you go! What are you waiting for? Go!"

Upon receiving the order, the lieutenant wiped away his tears, raised his hand in a deep salute, and immediately led two messengers to reorganize the third and fourth cavalry squadrons.

Loson drew his dagger, cut a section from the edge of the sash, and quickly bandaged his bleeding left eye. Without stopping, he issued orders: "First and second companies, assemble! Regroup! Go find Sergeant Feren; his men have nails and hammers. First, nail these four cannons shut!"

Upon hearing the order to nail the cannons to the ground, the sergeant hesitated slightly: "Sir, we might be able to use these cannons."

The bandaging process aggravated the wound, and Losong let out a suppressed growl of pain. He whirled around, his expression contorted with rage, and roared, "I told you to nail it! Go nail it! Do you even know how to use a cannon? Do I know how to use one? Neither of us can use one, so just destroy it!"

The soldier dared not say another word and set off to relay the order.

Loson, panting heavily, tugged at the reins and quickly scanned the battlefield with his still-intact right eye.

On the earthen mound, there was a chaotic scene of shouts and neighing horses.

The brown-clad soldiers abandoned their armor and fled desperately east, south, and even west.

The light cavalry of Leiqun County, who had charged ahead earlier, were like shepherd dogs driving livestock, doing their best to block the fleeing enemy.

Below the earthen mound, the left wing of the Allied forces and the right wing of the "puppet government army" that had retreated to the east bank once again engaged in fierce fighting.

Colonel Skull's silver-edged banner slowly advanced, intending to crush the remaining enemy forces on the right flank in one fell swoop.

Meanwhile, two infantry battalions of the "New Reclamation Expeditionary Army," which came from the puppet army's central command to support the right flank, had already repelled the Second Infantry Battalion of Leiqun County, which was following the cavalry in crossing the river bend.

After driving the latter back to the west bank, the two battalions of the New Reclamation Expeditionary Army did not attempt to rescue the artillery positions, but instead rushed straight towards the flank and rear of the Allied left flank forces.

Meanwhile, two other infantry battalions of the New Reclamation Expeditionary Army launched another fierce attack on River Valley Village.

The church tower in River Valley was engulfed in flames, smoke, and shouts of battle, like a lone boat struggling in a raging storm, which might capsize at any moment.

South of the river valley village, the troops of Baishan County were also engaged in battle with the enemy's left flank forces.

However, the pervasive smoke and the fumes from the burning houses in the valley village obstructed Loson's view, making it impossible for the captain to see the situation there.

After a long yet brief period of waiting, confrontation, and probing, this battle, which has not yet been officially named, began to intensify.

Bloodshed was everywhere, and no one was not caught up in it. Gunshots, hooves, screams... countless sounds intertwined and bombarded everyone's eardrums.

The soldiers became numb in the frenzied fighting; the world collapsed into the weapons in their hands and the enemies before them.

Stabbing in and out, severing necks, splitting chests—for ordinary soldiers, awareness and reason are luxuries that do not contribute to survival.

The trumpeters behind Loson blew the rallying call with all their might, until their cheeks ached and their throats burned, but only a small portion of the heavy cavalry returned to their ranks. The rest of the heavy cavalry either could no longer hear the commands or could no longer understand them.

Furthermore, the specially made lances of the returning heavy cavalry had all been broken during the previous charge, leaving them only with swords and sabers.

Loson stroked his horse's sweaty neck, then turned the horse to look at his men.

His subordinates included sons of military officers, re-enlisted retired soldiers, and regular army cavalrymen who had fled back to their hometowns... Many of them were unwilling to fight, but they still followed him all the way here and were ready to charge the enemy once again.

“The light cavalry is on the move.” Loson’s voice was hoarse and low as he stated each word clearly: “Once they drive the enemy away and disrupt the remaining phalanx, we will take advantage of the situation to crush them, then the enemy forces that are fighting Colonel Skull, and then the enemy forces in River Valley.”

The captain took a helmet from the body of one of his men, put it on his head, and pulled down the visor: "Finally, we will be here to end all the war and suffering in the newly reclaimed land."

Meanwhile, at the other end of the hill, Lieutenant Colonel Chris Varley's phalanx temporarily withdrew from the battle as the "rebel" cavalry retreated and regrouped.

However, Lieutenant Colonel Varley had no time to catch his breath, as more and more of the routed soldiers who had run down the hill were being driven by the rebels and were turning back to the remaining Parliamentarian troops on the hill.

The rebel light cavalry chased after the fleeing soldiers, cutting them down in their wake, while the rebel heavy cavalry were already poised to attack.

The fleeing soldiers at the front tumbled and crawled through the thicket of spears into the human wall. Some veterans grabbed them by the collars and pulled them behind them.

Protected by the formation, they suddenly felt relieved. Some collapsed to the ground, crying and laughing; others were so frightened that they convulsed as if suffering from a serious illness, drooling uncontrollably.

"Don't let them in!" Lieutenant Colonel Valé shouted, striding to the edge of the formation. He grabbed a fleeing soldier from the ground and shoved a broken spear into his hand. "Get up! Grab your weapons! Or get out of here!"

The outermost pikemen, following the lieutenant colonel's orders, brandished their spears and shouted at the fleeing soldiers. But how could they stop them? The fleeing soldiers, only thinking of escaping to safety as quickly as possible, still desperately pushed their way through the hail of bullets, oblivious to the cuts and blood streaming down their faces.

Valery steeled his resolve, snatched a matchlock musket from a soldier beside him, stepped out of the human wall, stood between the muskets, turned and ordered: "Musketeers! Open fire on anyone approaching the phalanx!"

After saying that, the lieutenant colonel slightly raised the gun and pressed the firing lever, pointing diagonally into the air.

A plume of white smoke billowed from between the gun barrels, and the other musketeers who were able to fire followed suit.

The continuous gunfire and smoke briefly halted the momentum of the fleeing soldiers, and those who still retained a shred of rationality circled around to the flanks of the formation.

Just then, Lieutenant Colonel Varley saw the rebel heavy cavalry in the distance begin to move.

Valé turned and snatched the flag from the flag bearer's shoulder, strode to the southwest corner of the square facing the enemy charge, jumped onto the cannon that was being loaded, and slammed the flag into the gun mount: "Hold the line! Running away is the same as dying!" Somehow, his roar was louder than the maximum volume a normal human could produce, even drowning out the noise of the battlefield.

Chris Varley stood where everyone could see him, his back to the charging enemy cavalry, and his face directly facing the faces inside the phalanx.

"We must win here!" Lieutenant Colonel Valery shouted desperately, regardless of whether the soldiers could understand him. "Otherwise, all the republics will be dragged into the war!"

……

[River Valley Village]
Lieutenant Woods leaned against an earthen wall surrounding the church square and fired at the Grand Council troops that appeared at the end of the road.

After firing one shot, he handed the gun over and took another loaded gun. In the farmhouse next to him, several wounded soldiers, their clothes still wet with blood, were frantically pouring gunpowder and stuffing lead into the barrels of their guns.

Woods' clothes were also covered in large patches of blood, but it wasn't his blood; it was Elno's blood.

The 32-pound solid shot easily destroyed the sheep pen that had been temporarily used as a fortified position. Woods was pulled out of the rubble and broken wood by his men, while Elnor remained there.

The Parliamentarian artillery bombardment did not cause serious damage to the riverbank wall, because the eight heavy cannons were not aimed at the low breastwork that Woods had temporarily modified—they were aimed at the slope itself.

The slopes between the high ground where the village of River Valley is located and the riverbed are both steep and gentle. In the previous reinforcement work, Colonel Gaisa Adonis personally led people to dig at the bottom of the slopes, taking mud to cover the walls, while racing against time to turn the gentle slopes into steep slopes, and the steep slopes into even more difficult-to-climb slopes.

However, their efforts were all in vain under the bombardment of heavy artillery.

The shells fired from the opposite hill directly blasted down the steepest part of the riverbank, and the collapsed soil and rocks formed several gentle slopes leading from the riverbed to the higher ground.

The defenders' terrain advantage vanished, and the soldiers of the newly established expeditionary force, who launched their third attack, charged up the high ground, shouting as they trudged through the soft soil, and drove the defenders out of the breastworks along the river.

This time, no cavalry could come to their aid, because all the allied cavalry had already been engaged in battle.

However, having learned a hard lesson, the newly established expeditionary force became overly cautious. The first wave of swordsmen and shieldmen did not rush into the village, but merely occupied the breastworks and farmhouses along the river.

Once it was confirmed that the defending troops had been repelled, the officers of the newly established land expeditionary force ordered the musketeers and reserve troops remaining on the east bank to cross the river, and also ordered the vanguard to widen the gentle slope created by the artillery bombardment.

This back-and-forth gave Woods valuable time to rebuild his defense.

He set fire to the farmhouses and sheds surrounding the church, using the fire to continue delaying the enemy; he overturned wagons, broke through walls to block the road, and piled up furniture, hay, and the carcasses of warhorses, turning the church and the surrounding square into a temporary fortress.

The village was ablaze, smoke billowing into the sky. Woods leaned against the courtyard wall, aimed at the shadowy enemy at the end of the dirt road, and steadily pulled the trigger.

The figures in the distance fell to the ground, but as soon as one fell, a new one took its place, as if an endless number of enemies were hiding behind the smoke screen.

But Woods didn't care about any of that; he just aimed, fired, picked up another matchlock gun, aimed again, and fired again.

Having established a fortified "bridgehead," the parliamentary army began attempting to attack the church square. However, the fire was too intense, forcing them to detour from both the east and west.

This was exactly what Woods wanted. The lieutenant assigned his musketeers to behind every house and every wall, creating layers of obstruction to the enemy and leaving the Parliamentarian commander confused about the exact number of troops defending the hill.

However, River Valley was simply too small, and no matter how much Lieutenant Woods used his talents, he could only delay the time it would fall.

The officers of the newly established land expeditionary force, having been hit hard several times, quickly realized the situation. Instead of slowly sending musketeers to suppress and probe, they directly dispatched troops to launch a bayonet charge towards the houses and walls that were spitting fire.

In the chaos of battle, houses and courtyards were cleared one after another by the New Reclamation Expeditionary Force. Woods led the remaining soldiers to retreat to Church Square.

The situation was extremely critical. Upon returning to the church, Woods immediately met with Colonel Bode, who had not left the top of the clock tower.

However, it was Colonel Bode who spoke first in their conversation.

The colonel noticed the bloodstains on the lieutenant's clothes and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Are you injured, Lieutenant?"

“Sir, no,” Woods replied succinctly. “It was someone else’s blood that I shed.”

Colonel Bode sighed softly.

"Please evacuate as soon as possible." Woods said hoarsely, stating the situation in a detached manner: "It's only a matter of time before the village falls. We've run out of ammunition, most of our soldiers are wounded, and we've lost our weapons. The enemy is charging in fiercely, probably trying to encircle us. Before they close in, I'll send someone to escort you to Colonel Gaisa's office."

Colonel Bode remained noncommittal: "I'm withdrawing, what about you?"

"I'll stay here," Woods calmly replied, "to inflict as much damage as possible on the enemy."

Colonel Bode looked at Lieutenant Woods and saw something new in the lieutenant's eyes, something...something he had never seen in the lieutenant before:

"Hate."

The thick smoke from the burning building obscured the view from the clock tower. The colonel stared out the window, as if he could see the two armies locked in fierce combat in the distance through the smoke.

“I will not evacuate, Lieutenant.” Colonel Bode turned to Lieutenant Woods. “In addition, I order you to hold this position for as long as possible, until the last man.”

"Yes, sir." Woods raised his hand in salute, but then restrained himself from objecting: "But please allow me to remind you, Colonel, that you are putting the entire army at unnecessary risk. Your decision now could lead to the failure of the entire campaign."

Colonel Bode remained unmoved. He smoothed his graying sideburns and said calmly, "It's alright, Lieutenant. Losing this battle is fine. The important thing is to fight to the last moment."

Upon hearing this, Woods, who had accepted the order to fight to the last man without hesitation, was somewhat dazed: "I...I don't understand, what are you saying?"

“From the moment I sent Gaisa Adonis into battle, our mission was no longer to win this campaign.” Colonel Bode’s voice was icy cold, and he chuckled contemptuously. “Sanel is no ordinary man. I still can’t figure out what his backup plan is. But I suspect he must be absolutely certain of victory to dare to initiate a decisive battle with us.”

Lieutenant Woods listened attentively without saying a word.

Colonel Bode stood by the window, overlooking the battlefield where millions had lost their lives. His broken and emaciated body radiated an indomitable strength: "But no matter how much he prepares, no matter how many tricks he has up his sleeve, he can win this battle, but I will make sure he loses the next one."

“This is my strategy, Lieutenant.” Bode Gates turned and looked coldly at Woods. “Do you understand?”

[A reader previously mentioned that "the weight in pounds refers to lead, so the actual weight of an iron cannonball is less than the weight in pounds," which is incorrect.]
[Although the rules for using shell weight to represent artillery caliber, power, and specifications are quite chaotic, and although the actual mass of pounds varies from country to country, this "weight" always refers to "a solid, spherical shell made of cast iron, weighing XX pounds." Only in the case of bullets might it refer to lead.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)