Tyranny of Steel

It was early morning in the mid of summer within the southwestern borders of Andalusia. Sitting within a fortified trench line was a Regiment of Landwehrs comprised roughly 2,000 men. Merely two artillery batteries supported these infantrymen as they gazed off across no man's land, bored out of their minds while they guarded a portion of the border that was deemed the least likely to engage in combat.

At the moment, the Austro-Granadan Alliance comprised of roughly 75,000 men deployed to the borders of Andalusia, because of this, their forces were spread thin throughout the area, as they waited for the attack of the Iberian Union who had now gathered four separate armies of roughly 100,000 men each in different locations. 

While the King of Austria led the cavalry to eradicate the Royal Families of the Catholic Iberian Kingdoms, regular soldiers such as the ones in this trench line drank their coffee and entertained themselves with card games. Colonel Johan Vilinger was drinking from a stainless steel field cup as he fulfilled his duty by gazing, watching over his men, and ensuring that their defense area remained under Austrian control.

The man had graduated from Officer training with high marks. However, he never believed he would be sitting at the rear lines in a hardly noticeable section of the Andalusian border while the rest of his comrades were fighting off waves of medieval soldiers. He was in a state of depression as he thought about how mundane his life as an infantry officer had become.

As the man lamented his current position, he decided to fulfill his obligations; as such, he peered his head over the sandbags to look into the distance, where he saw a sea of shimmering iron, though its reach was far off, one could tell this was no natural structure. Instantly alerted by this discovery, the man pulled out his binoculars to get a better glimpse of what he was looking at.

In the distance, an army of roughly 100,000 men flying various banners, especially that of the Kingdom of Portugal, were clad in various forms of armor. The glance of the sun reflected towards the Colonel's position as he gazed upon the sight of tens of thousands of iron-clad warriors. At the same time, they marched towards the entrenched Regiment of Austrian Soldiers.

The moment this Colonel realized what he was looking at, he lost control over his grasp, and the stainless steel cup fell onto the mud beneath his feet, splashing it with hot coffee. In a moment of fear, the Colonel's hands began to shake as he struggled to withdraw his flare gun from its holster. 

Johan's mind was filled with dread as he firmly grasped his flare gun with two hands before breaking its action open. He fumbled through his leather web belt, reaching for a flare that sipped from his grasp and fell into the mud below. 

Immediately the man knelt into the trench, covering his uniform with grime, and dug through the dirt to retrieve his fallen flare. Having wasted precious moments doing so, Johan quickly shoved the flare into his gun and fired it off into the air.

As the red projectile lit up the blue sky, the sight caused the half-asleep soldiers in the Austrian trench line to panic as they immediately looked over the edge of their fortified position and gazed in horror at the massive army heading in their direction. 

After confirming that nearly 100,000 men were marching towards their position, another nine flares were fired off from within the trench line, signaling the nearby forces that a full-sized army was marching on their position and that reinforcements were needed at their location. 

This caused a chain reaction of the various infantry placements to fire off their flares until they reached the central portion of the Austro-Granadan Army. The need for reinforcements was urgent; after all, there was no way 2500 men could defend against an army of 100,000.  Despite the inability to hold the position, the Austrian Colonel gritted his teeth before screaming out his command to his regiment. 

"Load your weapons, and get into your positions! The enemy is upon us, and we must halt their advance until reinforcements arrive! If we falter here, then Granada will be overrun, and the Catholics will cut off our retreat from Gibraltar. 

If such a thing were to occur then, our entire army would be stranded in this God-Forsaken land with no way out! For the sake of your King and Fatherland, you must hold the line! Hold the line even if it means your death! God with us!"

The moment the Colonel gave this speech, the 2500 men who comprised the Landwehr regiment and the two Artillery batteries lifted their weapons into the air and chanted back the battle cry of the Austrian army.

"God with us!" "God with us!" "God with us!"

After saying this, any trepidation contained within the hearts of the Austrian soldiers was forced out by a fearless resolve that only a warrior can know within their hearts. Two thousand five hundred men loaded their weapons as they fixed their bayonets before aiming over the edge of the trench line, waiting for the enemy to get within firing distance, committed to holding the ground until the last man was standing. 

Before long, Johan could see through his binoculars that the enemy army had approached the range of the Austrian artillery; he immediately cried out to the men responsible for using such weapons to fulfill their duty.

"Open fire! Rain hell upon these bastards!"

Upon saying this, his message was conveyed to the Artillery Officers, who began to do as instructed. Before long, the echo of the 7.5cm FK 22 Field Guns resounded in the air as the Colonel gazed through his optics to see the shells land upon the Iberian Position. A wide grin appeared on his face as the first barrage of 12 shells pounded the front lines of the enemy army.

Before long, the subsequent thunderous explosion filled the air as the shells continued to land upon the advancing Iberians in the hundreds. Yet despite this, the soldiers of the Iberian Union and their foreign volunteers continued to march through the barrages unaffected, with looks of grim determination on their faces.

The scene of the fields in the distance was wholly scorched by artillery, and corpses lie blasted apart in the ruined landscape; tens of thousands of men had already perished, and yet, it was as if they had not even made a dent in the massive army.

Before long, the Iberian Soldiers passed through the artillery and entered rifle range, where Colonel Johan immediately pulled out a nearby needle rifle and loaded its breach with a paper cartridge. As he did so, he commanded the soldiers in the trench line.

"Fire at will!"

As Johan fired his first shot, and those around him did the same, his ears rang from the volley of gunfire; despite this, he quickly pulled back the bolt of his needle rifle and loaded another paper cartridge before firing downrange once more. 

His bullet hit its mark as it pierced through the unarmored torso of the Pesant levy charging towards him with a spear in hand. However, they dropped to the ground dead on the spot; his comrades rushed forward through the bullets volley, utterly undeterred by the barbed wire and needle fire as they ran towards their deaths. 

After firing one more shot, Colonel Johan immediately ordered to retreat to the following trench line. Their position was about to be over-run, and he did not want to be swarmed by the enemy army.

"Fall back to the next line! Fall back!"

After saying this, he quickly climbed over the trench wall and ran through yet another no man's land towards the second trench line; his men promptly followed his lead, where they immediately slid into the trench alongside the rear-guard who had their rifles loaded and ready for the oncoming Catholic warriors. 

Johan immediately said a silent prayer as he prepared his weapon to fire; the battle at the Portuguese border had just begun, and though they had not lost any soldiers yet, eventually the Austrians would run out of trench lines to hide within, when that happened it would be all-out melee combat with tens of thousands of their enemies. 

As the front lines of Iberian soldiers and their foreign volunteers reached the first trench line, they immediately began to charge over its fortifications and into the line of fire. While this was happening, the King of Portugal sat back safely, gazing upon the battlefield with a sneer on his face. He gave a single order to the thousands of heavily armored men at arms and knights at his side.

"Now that the peasants have soaked up their bullets, it is time to advance upon their position, leave no heretic alive, God wills it!"

With this said, the heavy infantry and the cavalry forces of the Portuguese army began to charge into the fray; the battle for the Andalusian Border had only just begun. 

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