Chapter 556: Oh My Gosh, I’m Going to the Sky

East bank of the Dnieper River, Southern Army Forward Command.

When Denikin received the report from the forward observation post, he was finalizing the details for the full-scale forced crossing scheduled for early tomorrow morning with his staff.

"An armored airship?"

He set down his cup of "Orthodox Stimulant Brew," scanning the room of staff officers with profound confusion.

"Can someone tell me exactly what the background of this Saxon unit across the river is?"

No one could answer.

A lieutenant colonel from the intelligence section braced himself and stepped forward, holding the reconnaissance reports frontline units had attempted to gather on the west bank over the past two days.

"General, the information we currently have is... Over the past two days, this Saxon Imperial reinforcement force has arrived in piecemeal. They have at least a regiment-sized force, plus massive logistics... Preliminary estimates suggest a division or brigade-sized unit."

"A division or brigade-sized unit..."

Denikin repeated the phrase, drumming his fingers on the desk.

"Wait, why does such a small force have dedicated armored airship support?"

The room fell silent for several seconds; the staff officers exchanged bewildered looks.

According to second-hand intelligence from the Britannians relayed by St. Petersburg, the Saxons typically only provided armored airships to army-group-level units.

Thus, neither Denikin nor the senior officers of the Southern Army had ever considered the threat of an armored airship.

"General, there is one possibility..." the Chief of Operations for the Southern Army began.

"The priority of this Instruction Brigade within the Saxon military hierarchy is far higher than we imagined."

Denikin gripped his cup tightly. He had naturally considered this.

The manner in which his two battalions were obliterated a few days ago was proof enough. The Saxon armored vehicle assault was no joke, and now an armored airship had appeared in the sky.

"How large of an area can the armored airship's firepower cover?" He turned to another staff officer.

The officer flipped frantically through his notebook but failed to produce an exact number.

The reason was simple: their understanding of Saxon armored airships was pitifully limited. Their work in "model identification" was practically zero. Like other nations, the Greater Rus Empire didn't possess an armored airship branch before its collapse. Naturally, aside from some International Brigade members in Western Rus, neither side in the civil war had ever seen one up close.

Therefore, whether it was Kolchak's forces or Denikin's Southern Army, all their knowledge of this aerial weapon came from second-hand Britannian intelligence and vague descriptions in pre-war publications.

Furthermore, dusk had fallen. The forward observation posts could only discern a massive, blurry silhouette moving in the twilight; specific models and weapon configurations were indiscernible.

But it wasn't the capabilities themselves that unsettled him; it was the "unknowns" the armored airship introduced.

All of the Southern Army's prior operational plans were formulated on the premise that "the Rebels don't have armored airships."

Crossing boats, pontoon bridging, troop staging... none of it accounted for threats from the sky.

Two days ago, the Rebel aircraft shooting down two of their planes and launching ground attacks had introduced "variables"... And now, a much larger "variable" had arrived.

Humanity's instinctual fear of aerial units also made him feel the risk of a forced crossing at this moment was too high.

"Tomorrow's offensive... do we proceed as planned?"

Once this question hit the table, the command post immediately split into two camps.

"I suggest a postponement," an older officer stated first.

He stood up and tapped the river surface on the map.

"Crossing the river in daylight already exposes our troops on open water... Now, with an armored airship hanging overhead, those crossing boats will be nothing but targets."

"No!" another officer retorted instantly.

"Tomorrow's crossing is a coordinated action supporting Kappel's Center Army's assault on Kyiv... The Southwestern Front Headquarters stressed this repeatedly! If we shrink back at the last minute—"

"Oho, don't forget your place, or have you already been bought by Kolchak?"

"You!"

The officer suggesting postponement deployed a classic "smear tactic," leaving the other man momentarily speechless, before continuing, "Our relationship with the Center Army is merely as allies! Besides, retreating and being cautious are two different things!"

"You call this caution? A hundred and forty thousand men scared off by a single blimp. How will we ever show our faces if word gets out?"

Their voices grew louder until Denikin slammed his hand on the desk.

"Enough."

The argument stopped instantly.

Denikin stood up and walked to the operational map, bristling with red and blue markers.

He stared at the marked positions of the Saxon troops on the west bank of Rzhyshchiv for a long time. Honestly, he felt a chill.

Because armored airships were weapons that could genuinely alter the battlefield in this era, especially when his side lacked reliable anti-aircraft measures...

On the other hand, although the Southern Army was an independent command and essentially his own personal army—not strictly beholden to Brusilov's orders...

This river crossing was a crucial component of the front-wide offensive.

If he flinched now, he would inevitably have to wrangle with St. Petersburg later, and he knew Kolchak's temper all too well...

Moreover, Denikin wasn't the type to simply prioritize self-preservation when facing trouble.

On the contrary, during his decades in the old Imperial Army, his combat style was exceptionally aggressive. He had never backed down just because the enemy had numbers. Now, despite possessing a massive numerical advantage, dodging a direct confrontation was somewhat unacceptable to him.

But looking at it from a pragmatic standpoint, if they attacked recklessly and the crossing troops were obliterated by the armored airship... the casualties would be his own men.

Denikin exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Given the circumstances, we can consider a compromise."

Everyone looked at him.

"Send a telegram to Southwestern Front Headquarters tonight. Inform General Brusilov that a Saxon armored airship has appeared in the Rzhyshchiv sector."

He paused, then continued, "Simultaneously... postpone tomorrow morning's offensive. Wait until daybreak to send scouts to meticulously observe this armored airship's specifics. Then, I will make the final decision."

The pro-offensive officers opened their mouths, but Denikin turned to face the room.

"Gentlemen, I, Denikin, am not afraid of a fight... But war is not about bashing your head against a wall. No matter how hard your skull is, you need to see what you're ramming into first."

With that, no one offered any further objections.

After the meeting dispersed, only Denikin and his Chief of Staff remained in the command post. The Southern Army's commander stood before the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass.

"Damn it, I shouldn't have waited those two days..."

The Chief of Staff stayed silent, and Denikin rubbed his face vigorously.

He truly regretted it. A few days ago, after losing two battalions, he instinctively chose the "halt the offensive, mass forces, and prepare" option. Militarily, this wasn't wrong; at worst, it was overly cautious. But the problem was, he gave the enemy time to breathe and reinforce.

The night had completely enveloped the land outside the window. The distant Dnieper River reflected the cold moonlight.

Denikin couldn't see anything; the silhouette of the armored airship had long vanished into the dark.

But he could feel it was there.

Like a sword of Damocles hanging overhead—silent, yet infinitely lethal.

Simultaneously, in a clearing roughly ten kilometers southwest of Rzhyshchiv.

The L15 armored airship's cable hoist system was lowering a set of equipment secured in wooden crates.

About twenty airship technicians who had fast-roped down earlier, along with numerous combat engineers, were already bustling on the ground. They were rapidly assembling a lighting system.

Several heavy-duty radiant crystal generators were positioned around the perimeter. Thick cables snaked from the generators, connecting to high-powered searchlights mounted on metal stands.

Once the generators kicked on, the intense light instantly illuminated the empty field as bright as day.

This lighting system was clearly custom-designed. The light fixtures were angled inward to minimize outward light scatter.

While a faint glow on the horizon would still be visible from Rzhyshchiv ten kilometers away, it wouldn't act like a lighthouse broadcasting their position to the White Army across the river.

During the Bulgarian campaign, when armored airships supported the capital, Sofia, the local military and civilians illuminating landing zones provided inspiration. The Imperial Air Force further optimized the airships for night operations, equipping them with temporary lighting setups to enable nocturnal takeoffs and landings.

Once the lighting was ready, the L15 slowly descended.

Lieutenant Colonel Andreasia stood by the observation window on the bridge. Beside him, an officer holding a comms microphone calmly issued constant orders.

"Wind direction west-southwest, speed two meters per second... Commence dropping the field maintenance landing platform modules!"

As numerous platform components were lowered and assembled, the armored airship's temporary landing pad gradually took shape.

This platform functioned primarily for troop deployment and routine airship maintenance.

If the L15 required fuel and ammunition, it still had to fly several dozen kilometers back to the railway terminus for resupply...

During the platform assembly, Ludwig, already highly familiar with the airship, fast-roped down early. His feet hit the ground, and he immediately looked around, striding straight toward an idling half-track command vehicle parked at the edge of the clearing.

The man standing beside the vehicle waved at him.

"I thought you'd dawdle up there until the platform was fully assembled before coming down~" Morin teased with a smile.

"I am not the man I used to be. This height is nothing for a fast-rope!"

Ludwig grinned, and the two bumped fists. The Teutonic Knight then turned serious and asked:

"What's the situation? Looking from the air just now, everything seemed calm on your end..."

"The White Army could cross at any moment," Morin answered briefly, patting Ludwig's shoulder as they walked. "Come on, let's talk in the vehicle."

They climbed into the rear cabin of the armored command vehicle. Morin pulled some phosphorescent moss from his spell component pouch and cast the cantrip 【Light】.

The map on the folding table instantly glowed.

While curiously watching Morin cast, Ludwig pulled a folded document from the inner pocket of his Knight uniform and handed it over.

"The Grand Master asked me to give this to you."

Morin opened it. It was a report compiled by the Teutonic Order's technical department, summarizing all known intelligence on the old Greater Rus Empire's Armored Knights.

Though brief, it was the most complete version available.

"When the civil war broke out, the Orthodox Paladin Orders of the old Rus Empire largely joined the White Army."

Ludwig elaborated as Morin read the document.

"Their Armored Knights follow a completely different evolutionary path than ours."

"How so?"

"We pursued the path of radiant crystal combustion engines and magitech hybrids. The Britannians and Gauls went the pure magitech route... The Russians, they took the 'alchemical enhancement' path."

Morin flipped through the report, which included several blurry sketches.

The silhouettes of those Armored Knights were much bulkier and rounder than the "Siegfried Mark I." Their limbs were short and thick, shoulders and torsos covered in layered, overlapping armor, making them look like oversized "Onion Knights."

"In short, they are thick-skinned and meaty." Ludwig's evaluation was blunt.

"How thick?"

"During both Crimean Wars, the Russian Paladin Orders played crucial roles. Once they hit the battlefield, there was essentially nothing anyone could do against them~"

Morin set the report down, leaning against the hull in thought.

"But their mobility must be terrible, right? Otherwise, based on your description, the Russians wouldn't have lost the First Crimean War..."

"Of course. Their mobility is absurdly bad, and their terrain requirements are quite strict."

Listening to Ludwig's description, Morin pictured the mechs in his mind. Heavy armor, slow speed, alchemical enchantments... Isn't this just a walking KV-2?

"Firepower?"

"Previously, they were heavily melee-focused... wielding massive warhammers, flails, and other heavy crushing weapons. Later models mounted fixed artillery, but both rate of fire and accuracy were poor."

Morin fell silent for a moment, digesting the information.

Extremely tough but sluggish Armored Knights... This approach definitely deviated from other nations striving for balanced performance.

"However, this intel is from the old Imperial era." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

Ludwig added, "With the civil war dragging on, we have no idea if the Paladin Order remnants controlled by Kolchak, or those carved up by the various warlords, have undergone any upgrades or modifications."

"The Teutonic Order hasn't fought them before?"

"Unfortunately, no~" Ludwig shook his head.

"No worries, you'll get your chance very soon. Perfect time to test those modified 'shaped-charge armor-piercing shells' you mentioned last time~"

Hearing this, Ludwig nodded.

Six Armored Knights had deployed with the Instruction Brigade this time. All featured the latest upgrades, and their 77mm assault guns were issued specialized "armor-piercing shells." It was the perfect opportunity to clash with these Russian Paladin Orders.

Soon, Ludwig remembered something else and continued:

"Oh right, one more piece of news."

"Mhm~"

"From Grand Master Leonia... The testing team will arrive with the 'Two-Seater Armored Knights' in about a week. I'm not entirely sure of their exact configuration." Ludwig smiled. "Either way, the Instruction Brigade will receive additional support then."

"A week, huh..."

Morin considered this. This timeline depended on how the battle unfolded. If the White Army launched a massive offensive tomorrow, a week from now was too far away.

But regardless, having them arrive was better than not.

4:50 AM.

The defenders along the entire Rzhyshchiv line gradually woke in their trenches.

The Instruction Brigade battalions had completed their daily combat preparations half an hour earlier. The Armored Instruction Regiment's half-tracks underwent their first daily inspections while awaiting orders.

Inside his tent, Morin splashed his face with water, changed into a clean uniform, and walked straight toward the L15's field platform.

Rundstedt, Manstein, and Paulus finally received news that made them want to cheer:

The "Great Imperial Hero General Morin" had finally abandoned his plan to lead the reserves in a charge. Instead, he prepared to board the armored airship to conduct aerial command.

Trailing behind him, Rundstedt, Manstein, and Paulus wore varying expressions.

"General, are you truly boarding the airship?" Manstein, having endured this routine far too many times, was the first to speak.

"Yep~"

"Then the overall ground command—"

"You three and the Brigade HQ officers are more than capable. I merely need to make broad adjustments from the air based on the tactical situation."

Paulus, equally experienced, thought for a moment before quickening his pace to walk beside Morin. "General, I agree aerial command is the optimal solution. However... can you promise not to jump out of it?"

Morin didn't reply. The faces of the three officers instantly drained of color.

"General!" Manstein's voice cracked. "You have to give me at least that promise!"

"Hard to say."

Morin straightened his peaked cap. Without his combat gear, he looked much like any other Saxon officer. "What if the ground situation requires my personal intervention?"

"Then send the Thunder Warriors down!"

"The Thunder Warriors will definitely drop, but as part of the reserve... I must retain tactical flexibility."

Morin's tone was incredibly light, causing Manstein to pull his hair in frustration. "So it's actually more dangerous now!"

Rundstedt, having spent the least time in the Instruction Brigade, was at a complete loss for words. He turned to Manstein and Paulus. Both of their faces screamed the exact same sentiment:

This General is completely unmanageable.

Around 5:20 AM, the L15 armored airship lifted off again, drifting slowly toward Rzhyshchiv.

It maintained an altitude of three to four hundred meters. This height maximized the optical equipment's observation range while remaining safely above easy reach of ground fire.

Morin had no time to care how frantic his staff officers were. As the L15 arrived over Rzhyshchiv and assumed its role as an aerial reconnaissance and command platform, he plunged entirely into the rapidly updating system map.

For Morin, his current state was akin to playing RTS games like Wargame, WARNO, or Broken Arrow. Not only did he possess aerial vision, but he could clearly see the unit markers of every friendly and enemy force within his field of view.

Compared to his similar stunt at Amiens, Morin commanded vastly more troops this time. Furthermore, magitech communication equipment provided direct contact with the ground.

Acting as temporary comms operators were the mana-affine Thunder Warriors.

The 27 Thunder Warriors across three squadrons were assigned different tasks.

Commander Klaus and one squadron boarded the L15 with Morin, awaiting airdrop orders.

Another squadron was dispersed among the Instruction Brigade's combat units, acting as comms nodes alongside the command echelons.

These modified super-soldiers not only possessed the mana affinity to operate magitech comms gear, but their inherent combat prowess naturally made them elite bodyguards.

The final squadron was attached to the various forward observation posts.

Their mission: guide the eight 115mm Experimental Magitech Mortars.

Though still experimental, their range and the precision afforded by manual guidance, in Morin's view, possessed the power to alter the course of localized battles.

"General, all airship systems self-checks report normal."

Lieutenant Colonel Andreasia spoke to Morin, who stood by the foremost observation window on the bridge.

"The L15 will maintain its current altitude and begin a routine patrol along the riverbank."

Morin nodded silently, and Andreasia relayed the orders to the helmsman.

The sky was gradually brightening. The eastern horizon turned a pale gray, and the broad expanse of the Dnieper River shifted from pitch black to dark silver.

Standing behind the massive, complex optical equipment, Morin scanned the east bank. Through the lenses, silhouettes began moving in the White Army's forward positions.

East bank of the Dnieper River, White Army forward positions.

Observers dispatched by Denikin, clutching scavenged binoculars, scrutinized the massive gray silhouette in the western sky for over ten minutes.

Their reports were then rushed back to headquarters by fast horse.

"General, the observations from the front are as follows..."

The comms officer delivering the report unrolled his transcribed notes.

"The airship's size... is massive. It appears even larger than the one spotted near Kyiv."

Denikin sat in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"Armament?"

"Structures resembling small gun turrets are visible beneath the hull. However, compared to the Kyiv airship, the calibers are noticeably smaller. At the very least, they don't look like battleship-caliber turrets."

The officer who had suggested delaying the offensive the night before chimed in: "Meaning, this airship might not be a dedicated attack model?"

"That is the judgment of the frontline observers." The comms officer nodded. "They believe this airship is geared more toward transport and reconnaissance functions."

Denikin lowered his hands, tapping the desk lightly.

"Transport and reconnaissance..."

He stood, walked to the map table, and stared at Rzhyshchiv for a long moment.

"If its attack capabilities are truly limited... then its threat to our river crossing isn't fatal."

Hearing this, the pro-offensive officer from last night eagerly jumped in:

"General, I agree with that assessment... The Saxons would certainly keep their best armored airship in Kyiv! That is the most critical point of the Rebels' entire defensive line. The one allocated to Rzhyshchiv is highly likely a second-rate model."

The older, cautious officer frowned. "But even if it's purely for reconnaissance, it can see our entire crossing operation clearly from the air... We lose all element of surprise."

"We never planned on relying on surprise anyway... These past few days, the forces across the river have probably already grasped our scale."

Denikin shook his head and continued:

"Furthermore, pushing across seven crossing points simultaneously relies on absolute superiority in manpower and firepower... So what if it sees us? Can it block seven directions at once?"

This silenced all the officers advocating for a delay. Deep down, they also hoped to take Rzhyshchiv quickly, rather than keeping 140,000 men bogged down here.

Every day they stalled exponentially increased the logistical pressure on the Southern Army.

A moment later, Denikin turned around, making up his mind, and ordered the troops to begin probing attacks.

At 6:30 AM, the red markers on the system map began to move.

Witnessing this from the bridge of the armored airship, Morin muttered:

"The show is about to start..."