Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 263 We received support from an armored airship
Morin lay in the crater, panting heavily, but his nostrils were filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and blood.

He had just gone through a life-or-death struggle, and although he won, the feeling of his heart pounding in his throat had not yet fully subsided.

He glanced at the 'sentinel's' corpse that he had dragged into the crater; the man's dark gold mask reflected a faint glow in the dim light.

These Gaulish battle mages are a completely different species from the 'academics' in Brittany who stay in the mage towers.

Their fighting style is more direct, more lethal, and better suited to this bloody battlefield.

Just as Morin was about to catch his breath and think about his next move, five red signal flares rose into the sky in other directions on the battlefield.

"It seems that 'sentinels' have appeared on our side as well."

Morin muttered to himself and then looked at the system map. Sure enough, friendly forces on other attack routes also encountered these troublesome 'sentinels'.

Along the two-kilometer-long breach, the First Army's 'Sharp Blade' assault group was engaged in a final battle with the Gallic soldiers led by 'Sentinel'.

The gray waves of the plains and the blue dikes of Gaul collided and tore at each other repeatedly in this narrow area, with countless lives disappearing every second.

General Gallieri did indeed play his last trump card.

The main force of the 'Sentinels' numbered about 150, but at this point, most of them had been sent to the southern front by Joffre, leaving only about 30 'Sentinels' in Paris.

Gallieni deployed 25 'sentinels' directly into this crumbling breach.

If the First Army continues to fight using the same rigid tactics of resupplying troops wave after wave.

By now, the attacking force had probably already been routed by the Gallic soldiers, who were fighting a desperate counterattack in coordination with these elusive battle mages, and had even been pushed back into their own lines.

However, the Saxons' attack today did not follow the usual pattern.

The intense artillery barrage, coupled with the large number of elite troops that General Mackensen had concentrated in the 2-kilometer breach, completely stunned the Gauls.

Even Gallieri didn't expect a tactic like Xu Jin's barrage.

When the bombardment began, the main force of the Gallic defenders had already retreated to the second trench.

Based on previous experience, once the shelling ended, the main force could quickly launch a counterattack towards the first trench via the communication trenches.

But as the Saxon artillery fire extended, the Gallic soldiers in the second and third trenches also suffered considerable losses.

This is why the main artillery calibers of the Saxon Empire's artillery are currently 77 mm and 105 mm. If there were more heavy artillery pieces of 150 mm or larger, the damage would be even greater.
The individual combat capabilities of the 'Sentinels' were indeed formidable, and in the early stages of the battle, they did inflict considerable casualties on the elite units of the 'Sharp Blade' assault group.

Especially in areas where there were no special magical units like Morin to counter them, the general's guard and knights' squires were once beaten so badly they could hardly lift their heads.

The problem is that, compared to the massive number of the entire 'Sharp Blade' assault group, the losses inflicted by the 'Sentinels' are, to say the least, a drop in the ocean.
More importantly, a monk is not a perpetual motion machine.

Whether it's the highland mages of Brittany or the 'sentinels' of Gaul, their spellcasting abilities are strictly limited by 'spell slots'.

After a short period of explosive growth, a period of weakness is inevitable.

When the 'sentinels' responsible for other areas realized that their dazzling spell combos, while taking down quite a few Saxon 'iron cans,' were utterly unable to stop the endless torrent of gray dust surging across the plains, they also understood the problem.

Their raid did not seem to have much effect.

If we continue fighting on this front, we'll end up in a bloody mess with the Saxons.

Such an exchange is clearly something the 'sentinels' are unwilling to accept.

In particular, the five-person team responsible for Morin's area, after losing two members in a very short period of time, began to consider retreating.

Especially since the opposing team also has a Saxon spellcaster whose strength is unfathomable.
[Dispel Magic] [Spell Counter]. It's clear that the opponent is aiming for anti-magic combat.

The 'Sentinels' naturally also receive 'anti-magic combat' training, but this training is primarily geared towards the highland mage legions of the Holy Britannian Empire.
Meanwhile, the Saxon artillery positions behind the front lines, guided by the red signal flare fired by Kahn and the artillery observation balloons in the sky, finally launched a new round of rapid artillery fire!

"Boom—Boom!"

The sharp whistling of shells pierced the sky once again.

Countless shells flew over the heads of the Saxon soldiers who were engaged in battle, and landed with relatively high accuracy on the area where the Gallic soldiers and 'sentinels' were located.

"Damn it! Saxon artillery fire!"

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!"

The commander of the 'sentinel' squad immediately led the remaining two men to retreat.

Almost the instant he finished speaking, the first 105mm howitzer shell landed on the position not far from them.

"boom--!!!"

A deafening roar shook the earth, as if an invisible giant hand had slammed it down, causing the ground to tremble violently.

A huge ball of fire shot into the sky, mixed with thick black smoke and flying dirt, forming a terrifying flower of death.

Immediately afterwards, more shells rained down like raindrops.

The entire breach was instantly swallowed up by a storm of steel.

About 300 meters from Morin, in a huge crater, three surviving 'sentinels' were gathered together.

Their situation looks terrible.

Each person's combat uniform was covered with tears and charred marks, clearly indicating that they had suffered some losses in the battle with the training assault battalion soldiers.

"Captain, we must evacuate immediately! The Saxon artillery fire is too intense; if we stay any longer, we'll all be blown to pieces!" a 'sentinel' said urgently.

"I know!"

The leader of the sorcery school, the 'Sentinel,' gritted his teeth and said:

"That damned Saxon mage! He must be nearby! He might be the one who called for the artillery fire!"

Through the magical perception of the mask, he could vaguely sense a familiar magical fluctuation in the area where the artillery fire was most intense.

That fluctuation was exactly the same as that of the person who had previously toyed with them using [Dispel Magic] and [Spell Counter].

"Can we find him, kill him, and then retreat?" another 'Sentinel' from the Evoking School asked menacingly.

Their 'sentinel' unit has never suffered such a great loss since its establishment after the Sagau War.

Twenty-five elite soldiers were sent on a simple counterattack mission, but so far they have not achieved any substantial results and have already lost two of their own men.

Now they are being suppressed by the enemy's artillery fire like rats in the street, unable to even lift their heads.

This is simply a shame!
"It's too late!" The captain of the spellcasting school shook his head, his tone filled with resentment.

"The artillery fire is too intense, we can't pinpoint his exact location at all, and we've almost run out of spell slots."

This is the most deadly.

Battle mages, in the end, still rely on magic for their livelihood.

In that intense battle just now, they had almost exhausted all their offensive spells.

The remaining spell slots are reserved for self-defense and retreat.

Galieni did indeed grant these mage units a great deal of autonomy, including the ability to evacuate in emergency situations.

"Prepare to activate the emergency evacuation plan!" the captain said decisively. At the same time, he took out a blue crystal covered with complex runes from his pocket and pressed it heavily onto the ground of the crater.

The captain of the spellcasting school took a deep breath and poured his magic power into the blue crystal.

As magic was infused into it, the crystal began to emit an increasingly bright light.

On the ground, centered on the crystal, a complex magic circle composed of multiple concentric circles began to rapidly emerge and unfold.

[Five Rings Spell School - Teleportation Array]

This is one of the emergency evacuation methods used by the 'Sentry' unit.

Using this specially made crystal, they can quickly construct a temporary teleportation array on the battlefield.

This magic circle is connected to a permanent teleportation magic circle in the city of Paris.

However, this process takes about one minute and is very easy to interrupt.

"Faster! Faster!" The captain's heart was in his throat.

He could feel the whistling of shells overhead growing more and more intense, and several times shells landed on the edge of their craters, shaking the ground beneath their feet violently.

Just when he was about to give up, the magic circle finally took full shape.

"Om-"

With a soft sound, space in the center of the magic circle began to distort and fold, and then slowly opened an oval door that shimmered with blue light.

"We did it! Let's go!" The captain breathed a sigh of relief and shouted to his companions.

Without the slightest hesitation, the two 'sentinels' immediately put away their guns, turned around, and rushed into the portal, disappearing from sight in an instant.

The captain followed closely behind. Just before stepping into the portal, he turned back and took a deep look at the battlefield ravaged by artillery fire. His eyes, hidden behind the metal mask, were filled with resentment and unwillingness.

"The Saxons. And that damned mage."

Then he plunged headfirst into the portal.

The very next second after he disappeared, a 105mm howitzer shell landed squarely in the crater.

"boom--!!!"

The violent explosion shattered the newly formed teleportation portal, along with the temporary magic circle made of blue crystal, into countless fragments.

The shelling continued, but Morin could sense that the shells were once again beginning to penetrate deeper into the Gauls' positions.

Meanwhile, a captain from the 42nd Infantry Regiment in Morin's area, upon hearing the first whistle of a shell, followed the instincts of a veteran soldier and scrambled into the deepest shell crater, clutching his head tightly.

He felt like a small boat in a raging storm, which could be smashed to pieces at any moment.

Inside the trench, he could hear and see nothing but the sound of artillery fire; he could only feel the earth trembling violently beneath his feet, as if the whole world was falling apart.

The captain didn't know how long the shelling lasted; it could have been a minute or a century.

Only when the sound of the explosion finally faded into the distance did he dare to cautiously raise his head and peek out from the crater.

The sight before him made him gasp.

The entire battlefield had been plowed up again, with new, smoking craters everywhere.

He saw many Saxon soldiers who had no time to escape, blown to pieces, with limbs and torsos scattered everywhere.

Fighting one's own people is always the cruelest thing on the battlefield.

But even more numerous were the corpses of the Gallic soldiers who launched the counterattack.

He also saw that the 'sentinels' who had caused such heavy casualties earlier had disappeared in the artillery fire.

It's unclear whether it was blown to pieces or managed to escape in the chaos.

But in any case, it seems that the biggest threat has been eliminated?
The captain spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and struggled to climb out of the shell crater.

He looked at the soldiers around him, who had also crawled out of the shell craters, covered in mud and with expressions of relief, and raised his gun.

"Soldiers! The Gauls can't hold on any longer!"

He roared in triumph with a hoarse voice.

"For the Empire! Charge once more!"

Morin also carefully raised his head from the shell crater where he had been lying.

He saw the Saxon soldiers around him gradually emerging from their bunkers.

Although many were injured, and many more were lost forever on this land, the survivors all had a burning excitement of surviving a catastrophe and a desire for victory in their eyes.

They withstood the Gauls' fiercest counterattack; even their trump card, the mage troops, were blasted back by artillery fire called in by their own side.

The scales of victory have begun to tip in their favor.

Just then, Morin suddenly saw a signal flare rise from the direction of the large anti-aircraft magic devices behind the Gauls' positions in the distance.

However, the signal flare was green.

Green represents the completion of the task.

Maureen's heart began to pound uncontrollably again.

He knew this meant that the mission carried out by another small team from the training assault battalion had been successful!

The Gauls' only protective umbrella over the Cree line has been removed!
He suddenly raised his head and looked towards the rear of his own position.

He could almost hear the thunderous roar of engines coming from the sky.

"A green flare! It's a green flare! It's coming from the direction of the Gauls' anti-aircraft magic device!"

In safe airspace nearly ten kilometers from the front lines at Krei, on the bridge of the L29 armored airship, a lookout shouted excitedly, his voice trembling with excitement.

Captain Schneider, the submarine's captain, jumped up from his seat almost instantly and looked in the direction from which the signal flare had risen.

When that green light, signifying 'mission successful,' clearly came into view, this colonel in the Saxon Air Force felt his blood almost boil.

"God bless them! Those army lads did it!" He couldn't help but pump his fist.

He and his airship had been hovering here for almost an hour while waiting for this signal.

Every minute and every second was torture for them.

They watched helplessly as their own soldiers surged toward the enemy's lines like a tidal wave, as countless shells exploded on the enemy's positions, and as red signal flares, signaling danger, rose again and again.

But they could only wait there, unable to do anything.

That sense of powerlessness almost drove every air force officer and soldier on the bridge to the brink of madness.

Now, the opportunity has finally come!
(End of this chapter)