Chapter 576: Shoot the One Without Armor First!

The 5th Infantry Division's defensive line could hardly be called a line anymore.

The penetration speed of the Instruction Brigade's battalion-level tactical units far exceeded the limits of what a conventional infantry division could handle.

Spearheaded by the half-track assault echelons, multiple tactical units sliced into the White Army's positions along several parallel axes simultaneously, shredding the 5th Infantry Division's main force into pieces.

However, for the officers and men of the White Army's 5th Infantry Division, the first thing to collapse wasn't their combat resolve, but their communications.

The White Army officers quickly and despairingly realized that they had not only lost contact with their superiors but also with adjacent friendly units.

Messengers dispatched vanished like mud figures sinking into the sea...

The situation at the 5th Infantry Division headquarters wasn't much better... To be precise, the officers there were panicking even more than those on the front lines.

Because the moment the gunfire erupted, they realized the field telephone lines connecting to the frontline regiments were being severed one by one.

While they still received telegrams from the frontline units, these messages invariably reported being under enemy attack and begging for support.

Soon, the 5th Infantry Division headquarters realized they were no longer receiving any replies from the frontline. They could only hear the ceaseless, intense gunfire, as if a behemoth named "War" was slowly devouring the 5th Infantry Division.

It's over.

This thought swirled through Division Commander Dmitry's head before he looked up at the officers gathered before him.

Some wiped sweat from their brows, others kept their heads down in silence. The Chief of Staff stood by the map, pencil hovering in mid-air, seemingly unsure where to draw the next 'X'.

"Division Commander..." a young operations staff officer gathered his courage. "Should we consider—"

"Do not speak of defeat so easily!"

Dmitry glared at him, ground his back teeth, and looked at his Chief of Staff.

The latter met his gaze, seeming to share a tacit understanding. Both could read in each other's eyes that they held no hope for the battle's outcome.

Their tacit understanding, forged over years of working together, led them to the exact same thought simultaneously.

Forget four hours; whether this division could survive two hours was a serious question right now.

Therefore, their next step was to find an opportune moment to prepare for withdrawal...

Dmitry was just about to find an excuse to call his adjutant in and confirm the preparations for those "backup evacuation plans" when the tent flap was violently thrown open.

"Report, Division Commander!"

A sweat-drenched comms officer burst in, nearly tripping over a guy rope at the entrance.

"The vanguard of the Army's direct reserve force has arrived on our division's left flank!"

Dmitry froze.

"What?!"

"The vanguard of the direct reserve, roughly a regiment in strength, has already engaged the Saxons on the left flank!"

The comms officer handed the telegram to Dmitry while gasping for breath, his face alight with joy.

"And... accompanying them are three 'Linebreakers'! They have already entered the battle!"

A clamor erupted in the tent as several division officers spoke at once.

"Reinforcements arrived?"

"Armored Knights are here too?!"

"Thank God, we're saved!"

One young operations staff officer even slammed the desk, his face flushed with the relief of a survivor.

But Dmitry's expression didn't relax.

He stood motionless, his face twisting with even greater conflict.

This timing... Motherfucker, why did it have to be this timing?

Five minutes earlier, and he could have continued commanding while pretending nothing was wrong. Five minutes later, and he and the Chief of Staff might have already been in that light automobile.

But it just had to happen at this exact critical juncture...

Reinforcements had arrived, even "Linebreaker" Armored Knights. If he fled with his men now, a simple "tactical redeployment" wouldn't excuse it.

He stood there, his hand gripping the telegram stiffening for a fraction of a second. Though he hid it well, one officer noticed his silence and tentatively asked, "General... reinforcements have arrived, but you still seem worried about something?"

Dmitry snapped out of it, instantly changing his expression.

"Exactly!"

He steadied his voice, speaking in a deep, grave tone. "I'm just worried that the direct reserve rushed here so fast they stretched their column too thin. Their follow-up forces might become disconnected."

He then turned to the comms officer, adopting his usual composed tone.

"Continue trying to contact the left-flank regiments. Use radios, send messengers—do whatever it takes to let the left flank know reinforcements have arrived so they can coordinate."

"Furthermore, do everything possible... I don't care if you have to keep transmitting or send more messengers... contact the allied commanders! Tell them the Saxons have a large number of armored vehicles and their infantry follows closely! Tell them to be prepared!"

These orders were methodical and logical. The officers present nodded, feeling their division commander was truly seasoned to be considering tactical coordination details amidst such chaos.

Only the Chief of Staff remained still, his head bowed, his right hand absently tapping a pencil against the corner of the desk.

He knew exactly what Dmitry was thinking.

The man wasn't worried about "disconnection"... He was buying time for himself, waiting to see which way the wind blew.

If the reinforcements truly stabilized the line, he would stay and be a hero. If they couldn't... well, the car and horses were still waiting in the rear.

The Chief of Staff said nothing, however, because he was thinking the exact same thing.

On the right flank of the Instruction Brigade's axis of advance.

Three "Linebreaker" heavy Armored Knights blocked the path of advance.

A company commander of the Armored Instruction Regiment's 2nd Battalion, responsible for the assault in this sector, popped half his body out of his half-track's roof hatch. He observed through his binoculars for a few seconds before ducking back down with a curse.

Those three massive gray behemoths stood in an open area at a crossroads, forming a triangular formation—two in front, one in back—spaced about twenty meters apart.

The fire support vehicles attached to the 2nd Battalion immediately returned fire, their RAK15 50mm anti-armor guns unleashing several rapid volleys.

The impacts sparked clusters of fire against the "Linebreakers'" frontal armor, but every single shell bounced off.

It was exactly the same result as their previous encounter near the Rzhyshchiv positions... the 50mm AP shells lacked the penetration power to breach the "Linebreakers'" frontal armor.

The White Army pilots operating the "Linebreakers" were no slouches either. Though they had been rushed here on foot and their machines were not in optimal condition, as elites of the old Imperial Paladin Orders, their combat experience was incredibly rich.

Their experience in "absorbing damage and defending" far exceeded that of any other Armored Knight pilots, allowing them to push their machines' characteristics to the absolute limit.

The three "Linebreakers" covered each other while two battalions of White Army infantry advanced behind them, using the Armored Knights for cover.

Under these circumstances, the Instruction Brigade forces attacking the enemy's left flank could only temporarily avoid the brunt of the assault. After all, Morin never advocated for reckless frontal charges against overwhelmingly superior forces; a tactical retreat was perfectly acceptable when necessary.

The "Thunder Warrior" attached to the 2nd Battalion assessed the situation and decisively contacted Morin via his magitech comms terminal.

"General, the right flank has encountered White Army reinforcements, including three 'Linebreaker' heavy Armored Knights. Our current weapons cannot penetrate them."

"The 2nd Battalion has temporarily fallen back to a safe distance and is reporting to you in accordance with our mission package..."

Morin's voice soon came over the comms.

"Three? Confirmed?"

"Confirmed. Followed by at least two infantry battalions... Estimating this vanguard element of the enemy reinforcements is at least a regiment in strength."

"Understood. I'm heading your way. Maintain distance for now; do not engage forcefully."

Morin was currently standing at the temporary headquarters of the 11th Infantry Regiment, subordinate to the 5th Infantry Division.

Or, more accurately, the location where this regimental headquarters used to be.

Tents were overturned, tables and chairs scattered across the ground. Several senior White Army officers squatted in the corner, hands bound.

The assault on this regimental headquarters ten minutes prior had been swift and decisive.

The White Army stragglers and machine gun nests attempting to block them were either steamrolled frontally by the "Thunder Warriors" or simply abandoned their weapons and fled after realizing their bullets had zero effect on the heavy armor.

As Morin approached, the system map pinpointed the headquarters' location. Before the final sprint, Morin raised his MP14, slowing his pace slightly to let Klaus catch up.

"Dead ahead. Regimental HQ."

A muffled response came from Klaus's helmet. "I see it. Infantry dug in on the perimeter... about two hundred guards."

"No problem. We breach directly... Maybe I can draw their attention again like last time~"

"Understood!"

The next moment, ten figures burst from the edge of the low shrubs.

The first to open fire from the HQ guard company was a heavy machine gun mounted behind a dirt berm.

The incoming fire was dense, pinging sharply against the "Thunder Warriors," but aside from making their spell shields flicker occasionally, it had no substantial effect.

But during this exchange, someone in the guard company noticed a different figure.

Among the ten charging men, one wasn't wearing that heavy armor.

He wore a standard Saxon Army field uniform, a modified drum magazine rig bulged on his chest, held a submachine gun in one hand, and... a longsword in the other?

This appearance stood out starkly amidst a group of heavily armored warriors.

"The one without armor! Shoot him!"

An unknown officer roared, and a massive volume of fire from nearby White Army soldiers and heavy machine guns instantly concentrated on him.

Bullets rained down on the figure, but they quickly realized their bullets couldn't harm him. They were all stopped by a translucent shield.

Like hitting an invisible glass wall, the bullets ricocheted erratically in all directions.

Someone in the White Army lines gasped.

"A mage! It's a spellcaster!"

The blood of the more experienced officers ran cold.

Some of them had seen War Alchemists fight during the Imperial Army era; they knew intimately what the presence of such a spellcaster meant.

The ordinary soldiers might not have grasped the situation yet, but the officers were already screaming themselves hoarse.

"Scatter—! Everyone scatter! Don't bunch up—!"

White Army soldiers scrambled to disperse, trying to put distance between themselves to avoid being wiped out by an area-of-effect spell.

But the order came too late.

The ensuing scene was forever etched into the minds of the surviving White Army officers. The spellcaster simply vanished.

Then, five flashes of sword light tore through the position. Following each flash, weapons were sundered and White Army soldiers were sent flying.

Finally, the figure reappeared in the center of the position. The blade of the black longsword in his hand was coated in a faint, blood-red glow, like the lingering resonance of a spell.

Morin stood there, holding the sword in one hand, surrounded by over a dozen corpses. A red light extended from the dark sword—having finally tasted blood—and ultimately enveloped his entire body.

Witnessing this, the remaining White Army guards fell into a collective, stunned silence that lasted two or three seconds.

Then, panic spread like a contagion among them.

Some turned and fled, others threw their rifles and raised their hands. Those who instinctively raised their weapons to fire were mowed down by Morin, firing the MP14 from the hip.

Helga's modified drum fed flawlessly. In fully automatic mode, the 9mm pistol rounds quickly emptied the entire drum.

The resistance from this regimental HQ guard unit ended within minutes.

Klaus and the other "Thunder Warriors" breached from other directions almost simultaneously. They barely had a chance to fire a few shots; Morin had already eliminated the greatest obstacles.

Ultimately, the nine "Thunder Warriors" swept into the infantry regiment's command tent like a whirlwind, pinning all the senior White Army officers—who were still frantically trying to destroy documents—to the ground.

A White Army major, kicked to the dirt, looked up at the heavily armored giants before him, his entire body trembling.

Klaus walked over to Morin, raising his MG14 to signal the area was clear. Morin had just finished his communication with the 2nd Battalion.

"General, what do we do with the prisoners?"

Morin drove the "Dark Sword" into the ground, pulled out a fresh drum magazine, and loaded it while speaking.

"Leave two men to guard these officers and hand them over when the follow-up assault forces arrive... The rest of you, come with me."

He brushed some mud kicked up by shrapnel off his uniform, his tone as casual as if he had just been out for a stroll.

"There are three 'Linebreakers' on the left flank. Our armored vehicles can't scratch them right now, so I have to go deal with it."

Klaus's helmet tilted slightly.

"General, you're going personally?"

"What else? The airship is tied up and can't drop our Armored Knights... Across the entire flank, the only one capable of punching through those behemoths... is me."

Saying this, Morin glanced down at his prepared spell slots.

His 4th, 5th, and 6th-tier spell slots were still intact, completely unused... Wait, no, he just used 【Steel Wind Strike】...

However, the other spell remaining in his 5th-tier slots was specifically prepared for encounters with Armored Knights.

The seven "Thunder Warriors" and Morin quickly set off toward the enemy's left flank. For these modified "super soldiers," a sub-two-kilometer sprint took barely any time, allowing them to reposition rapidly.

While running, Klaus activated his comms terminal to ask a preemptive question: "General, how do you plan to fight those three 'Linebreakers'?"

Morin thought for a moment while nimbly vaulting over an obstacle. "The 'Linebreaker's' main advantages are its thick frontal armor and immense size... but it's slow, and its joint flexibility is poor."

"I'll scout the terrain first. If conditions permit..."

He opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

"I'll just dismantle them one by one."

Klaus was silent for a moment before asking, "What do you need us to do?"

"Just clear the infantry for me... Those three behemoths definitely have infantry support. You handle the guards, peel the Armored Knights away from them... I'll take care of the rest!"