A wave of indescribable stench, of burning flesh, quickly spread, overpowering the thick smell of gunpowder and blood, causing Erik to retch violently. He watched in horror as the Gallic soldiers in the flaming Trench twisted and struggled, finally collapsing into human torches spewing black smoke. This was war.

The Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers beside him seemed impervious to it. They advanced relentlessly into the depths of the Trench in small, coordinated teams, utilizing automatic weapons, hand grenades, and the Flamethrower.

More and more Saxon soldiers who broke into the first Trench were infected by this momentum. They shed their initial confusion and spontaneously followed behind these capable figures, providing flank cover and clearing residual resistance. Erik mechanically followed the crowd, occasionally firing a shot at an enemy or instinctively using his bayonet to dispatch a fiercely resisting foe. His mind had stopped functioning; all that remained were the primal instincts to survive and to charge forward.

On the muddy ground outside the Trench, the fighting also reached a fever pitch. Several 'Siegfried I' Armored Knights, having defeated their initial opponents, continued toward the Gallic second defense line. But they quickly encountered new enemies. Several blue-painted Armored Knights, with a more ancient, elegant design, charged out from behind the Gallic positions. Engraved on their chest armor was a conspicuous multiple-cross emblem—a large cross in the center surrounded by four smaller crosses.

"It's the Holy Sepulchre Knights!" a Teutonic Knight warned his comrades through the amplifier. Unlike the Order of the Garter and Templar Knights who were active in the colonies, the Holy Sepulchre Knights, aside from one squadron guarding the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, mostly served as the Gallic homeland's strategic reserve and garrison force. The Knights stationed in Paris were mostly older veterans rotated back from the colonies. Though older and perhaps slower to react than younger pilots, their combat experience was immense. They had been rushed to the Creil front to counter the Saxon Teutonic Knights.

These experienced Holy Sepulchre Knights, aware of the 'massive weapon' the Teutonic Knights possessed, chose not to clash head-on. Instead, they utilized the muddy terrain and shell craters to continuously maneuver around the 'Siegfried I' machines.

Soon, one Teutonic Knight, in his haste to charge, accidentally bogged down his mechanical foot in a huge shell crater. Almost instantly, two 'Charlemagne II' Armored Knights of the Holy Sepulchre Knights flanked him from the left and right. Their highly vintage Enchanted Knight Lances were not aimed at the sturdy frontal armor but at the relatively vulnerable leg joints and flanks of the 'Siegfried I.'

"Watch out!" another Teutonic Knight roared, attempting to provide support, but his opponent held him fast, preventing him from disengaging.

The Armored Knight duel immediately devolved into a stalemate. Due to the prior engagements, many Teutonic Knights had already depleted their personal supply of Shaped Charge Armor-Piercing Weapons and found it difficult to resupply quickly during the trench breakthrough. Faced with these experienced opponents, they could not gain any immediate advantage. The steel giants of both sides clashed clumsily yet lethally in the mud, the roar of engines mixing with the clang of metal. Both sides desperately wanted to defeat their opponent quickly and open a path to victory for their infantry.

Inside the Trench, Erik had successfully followed the Assault Team into the Gallic second defense line. The resistance here was more tenacious than the first line. The Gallic soldiers, relying on the more complex fortifications, launched counter-charges again and again, fighting back ferociously.

A Saxon soldier, leaning out to fire, was hit in the head by a bullet from an unknown direction. His Spiked Helmet was instantly knocked off, and he collapsed backward without a sound. Morin glanced at the fallen soldier, showing no emotion. He simply reapplied his [Mage Armor] and charged directly around the corner of the Trench. A large volume of fire was immediately drawn to him but was deflected by the blue sparks of his protection.

Erik and his comrades, ignoring the spectacle, instinctively followed the Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers. They took advantage of the suppressed fire to rush forward. The fire from the MP14 Submachine Guns formed a barrage, mowing down the Gallic soldiers in the Trench. Several grenades were accurately thrown deeper into the Trench. Following the explosions and dense gunfire, the stubbornly resisting Gallic soldiers were completely eliminated. Morin had successfully spearheaded a breach in the second Trench with the 1st Company and surrounding allied forces, establishing a foothold.

In this first battle after arriving at the Creil front, Morin had not committed the entire battalion. Instead, he led the 1st Company in a probing assault. They had quietly left the Trench last night and crawled, hands and knees, to a position sufficiently close to the Gallic Trenches, hiding their bodies in shell craters. After the final shell of the artillery preparation landed today, and before the charge whistle even sounded in the rear, Morin and the 1st Company had already launched their attack, quickly eliminating several exposed fire points. If not for this, the casualties for the Saxon soldiers in this morning's attack would have been far greater.

However, before Morin and his troops could catch their breath after occupying the Trench, the Gauls launched an even fiercer counterattack. Morin heard a flurry of bell-like sounds from the third Trench line. Immediately following, a wave of Gallic soldiers surged out of the deeper third Trench, launching a desperate charge.

"The enemy is counterattacking! Hold this position!" A nearby Saxon Lieutenant shouted hoarsely. Erik and the other surviving common soldiers, organized by the Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers, quickly utilized the newly captured fortifications to establish a temporary defense line. He fired, cycled the bolt, ejected the casing, loaded, aimed, and fired—a sequence of movements he had performed countless times, now as natural as breathing.

One Gallic soldier after another fell before his rifle, and his comrades around him were also steadily cut down, yet the Gallic assault showed no sign of stopping. However, the Saxon soldiers who had successfully breached the Trench could not withstand this kind of attrition.

Morin leaned against the corner of the Trench, quickly reloading the MP14 Submachine Gun's magazine. He glanced at the system map, his brow tightly furrowed. The unit tokens representing the friendly forces only showed his 1st Company and a few allied forces, wedged like a deep salient into the red zone of the Gallic Trenches. The blue arrows in other directions had either failed to follow up or were slowly retreating. Clearly, the counterattack had repelled the main assault force in all other directions.

Their small force had formed a dangerous salient. The map showed several red, diamond-shaped markers representing enemy Armored Knights rapidly moving toward their position. If they continued fighting here, their company, along with the several hundred infantrymen who followed them, would likely be encircled and annihilated by the Gauls.

"We can't advance any further." Morin quickly made his judgment. The objective of this assault was already unattainable. Continuing to fight to the death here would serve no purpose other than increasing unnecessary casualties. Moreover, the Instruction Assault Battalion had gathered sufficient intelligence from this probing assault.

Morin decisively issued the order to retreat to Klaus beside him.

"Klaus, pass the order—halt the attack. We're pulling back!"

"Yes, Battalion Commander!" Klaus nodded, quickly pulling over two Dispatch Riders nearby: "Relay the order: alternating retreat by platoon! Bring the wounded with you!"

"Retreat?" The Lieutenant from the 42nd Infantry Regiment who had joined them looked utterly shocked. "Captain… we just reached here! One more push, and we can break through their third line!" The Lieutenant's eyes were bloodshot, and he was clearly agitated.

"Look around you, Lieutenant!" Morin remained calm, unaffected by the officer's emotion: "Our flanks are completely exposed! Enemy Armored Knights are flanking us! Is your 'one more push' meant to lead the rest of your men to their deaths?"

The Lieutenant followed Morin's gesture, realizing that the gunfire in the Trenches to the left and right was subsiding. Their allies were gone. The cold reality immediately sobered him. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Under my command, Lieutenant." Morin patted his shoulder firmly, saying in a low voice: "Now, have your soldiers follow my men, alternating cover. We still have a chance to retreat."

"Yes, Captain." The Lieutenant hesitated but ultimately obeyed. Morin was not his direct superior, but the reputation of the Instruction Assault Battalion and Morin's displayed combat effectiveness made him instinctively follow the command at this critical juncture.

The order to retreat was quickly relayed. The Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers immediately displayed their high tactical proficiency. Operating in squads, they used precise bursts of rifle fire and submachine gun fire to suppress the Gallic counterattack, buying precious time for the retreating allied soldiers. The soldiers of the 42nd Infantry Regiment, who had been fighting to the death, also quickly sprang into action after receiving the clear retreat order. They helped the wounded, moving slowly but surely toward the first Trench under the Instruction Assault Battalion's cover.

Erik was among the retreating crowd. He supported a wounded comrade, trudging through the mud and corpses in the Trench, moving painfully backward. A bullet whistled past his ear, the air current raising a chill on his neck. He flinched but did not dare to stop. He knew the Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers behind them were forming an unbreakable shield. The MG14 Light Machine Guns roared with a steady, rhythmic sound. Every burst brought down a wave of charging Gallic soldiers.

Once they successfully retreated to the Gallic first Trench, Morin immediately ordered several soldiers to pile all the military explosives they carried at the entrance of the Communication Trenches linking the front and rear lines.

"Everyone, fall back! Prepare to detonate!" Morin commanded loudly. The Saxon soldiers quickly evacuated the Communication Trenches. As an Instruction Assault Battalion soldier beside Morin ignited the fuses, a series of earth-shattering explosions erupted moments later.

"Rumble——!"

The ground shook violently. Huge columns of smoke rose into the sky. The Communication Trenches the Gauls had meticulously dug were instantly blasted and collapsed in several sections. Rolling earth and rocks completely sealed the Trenches. The pursuing Gallic soldiers were blocked by the sudden blasts. They tried to climb out of the Trenches, but were immediately shot down by fire from an unknown direction.

"Well done!" The Lieutenant from the 42nd Regiment excitedly punched his hand. Before the Gauls could clear the path, this demolition would buy them at least ten minutes of precious retreat time.

Morin ignored the Lieutenant's excitement, calmly commanding the last rearguard soldiers to evacuate the Gallic first Trench and fall back toward their own position. The retreat route remained dangerous, as Gallic artillery deployed further back was still firing. The soldiers had to utilize shell craters for cover, crawling forward at maximum speed.

When Erik felt his lungs were about to burst, he finally dragged the wounded comrade and scrambled into the safety of their own Trench. His tense nerves finally relaxed. He collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily. He had survived. He had crawled out of hell.

He looked around. Of the comrades who had started the charge with him, less than a third remained standing. Not far away, Morin and the 1st Company soldiers also jumped into the Trench. His uniform was covered in mud and blood, but his overall condition was much better than the others. Morin looked at the heavily damaged position, then turned back to the smoke-filled Gallic line in the distance, slowly shaking his head. He murmured, his voice barely audible:

"The way this battle is being fought… is wrong."

"The artillery fire isn't deep enough, and it failed to cover the Gallic reserve assembly areas."

"The distance to charge out of the Trench is too long. By the time the main force reaches the halfway point, the Gauls will already have climbed out of their Trenches and attacked."

"The gap between artillery preparation and infantry charge needs to be shorter."

(End of this Chapter)

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.