Chapter 1456: Technical Troops

Chapter 1456 -1365: Technical Troops

Rhondas constantly looked towards the north, gripping his hat in his palm, crumpling it with his fingers.

“Stop looking!”

Wearing a wool coat, shivering while sipping coffee, Dass waved his hand: “We haven’t attracted the enemy’s main forces yet; His Majesty won’t launch an attack.”

“But…”

“There’s no ‘but.’ If we want victory, we must pay the price. We soldiers must think for the Holy Alliance. If I don’t, who will?”

The situation Dass faced was made very clear before the battle.

He must hold the enemy’s attack firmly on the southern battlefield, try to attract the enemy’s main forces, and only then can follow-up plans be made.

However, the current situation exceeded Dass’s expectations.

Neither the decisive maneuvering of the Royal Palace’s forces nor the emergence of numerous flesh Titans and the dam were things he had anticipated.

His Majesty and the strategists had clearly discussed the strategy before the battle, and they had gathered resources on the Royal Court’s troops to a significant extent; how could they not foresee the current situation?

In fact, the Chief of Staff had mentioned it once or twice before the battle and told him that support would be provided.

He just couldn’t understand what this support was, that can firmly block the enemy’s near fifty-thousand soldiers using twenty thousand soldiers without affecting the overall battlefield situation?

If troops were mobilized, who would fill the gaps in other areas?

Could it be that they are expected to endure?

No way, His Majesty never fights a doomed battle without preparation.

Taking a deep breath, Dass suppressed his doubts, looked at the returning Eighth Corps Commander and asked, “Have the warrior nuns all withdrawn?”

The Eighth Corps Commander of the Steel Legion nodded: “They have withdrawn, two were lost, two were seriously injured, and four still have fighting capability…”

Seeing the corps commander unaware, Rhondas had to ask: “What about Louise?”

After all, she is the grandmother of the Pope’s eldest daughter, but Dass couldn’t directly inquire.

“Louise was seriously injured but is not in life-threatening condition.”

Dass exhaled a breath of stale air and waved: “Rhondas, go check on her.”

Rhondas left in response, but soon returned with a chuckle, followed by a petite figure wrapped in large bandages.

Dass’s face darkened, glaring at his adjutant before greeting, “Louise, why did you come in person? You should rest and recover more…”

“I’m not that old; I plan to continue in the upcoming battles.”

“But…”

“But what? Call me old again, and I’ll plug my ears.” Seeing Dass silent, Louise nodded in satisfaction, “You must be blaming His Majesty, right, for giving you such an impossible task.”

“It’s not impossible; His Majesty wouldn’t give me a task I can’t complete, I’ll find a way.”

“Using soldiers’ lives as sacrifice is a last resort.”

“If all methods are exhausted, we’ll have to endure, isn’t that how it went from Pavia to Grey Robe Hill?”

Louise shook her head, her twin tails swaying with her: “The past is the past, the present is the present.

Sacrifices in battle are inevitable, but if reached to the point where our soldiers still need to sacrifice themselves, it’s excessive.”

Dass scratched his head in confusion: “Then what do you mean?”

Ignoring Dass, Louise climbed onto a wooden crate and gazed backward: “It’s about time.”

Dass was initially perplexed, but then he listened closely and soon heard the approaching sound of carriages.

“What is that?”

“It’s the miracle technology troops of the Holy Council, approximately two thousand people.”

“Two thousand people, what difference does that make?” Dass rubbed his temples, still confused.

Louise smiled with depth: “You’ll find out soon; you should go fortify now. With them, vampires will only meet their doom.”

…

In this world, the war was unlike any before.

Since 1449, when the clockwork cannon first appeared systematically on the battlefield, the roar of artillery replaced the war cries and the sound of arrows slicing through the air.

The whistling iron balls coming and going completely filled the ears of humans and vampires alike.

On the sandbar in the river, the defense line made up of bunkers, trenches, and low walls splashed with water columns and mud.

A nearby dam of countless corpses was relentlessly bombarded yet continually repaired.

On one side of the riverbank, or even standing on the dam, piles of vampires, faces flushed red, used blood magic.

Limbs and torsos melded, flesh unified.

Numerous Jiangshi surged from the riverbank, jumped into the riverbed, swarmed the dam, and merged with the corpse dam.

The Royal Army has ravaged Dawn Island for so long, almost using all the zombies at this moment.

The entire embankment seemed like a living creature, constantly being bombarded, revealing gaps, and then continuously getting repaired and restored.

On the embankment, the Flesh Titans walked shoulder to shoulder, carrying enormous tower shields.

After all, if they walked in the muddy riverbed, their movement would be too slow, and there was also the risk of being hit by plasma bombs.

Laimon Fonda, the leader of the Flesh Titan ten-man squad, gazed across from the shore and then turned to ask, “Has Levke’s cause of death been determined?”

Levke was one of the Flesh Titans in Laimon Fonda’s squad.

Earlier, when they were surrounded and counterattacked by Holy Alliance soldiers and driven away by artillery, Levke was hooked into the trench by a long spear, left behind to cover their retreat.

Laimon Fonda had not expected that Levke would indeed die.

Even though they had already cleared the Holy Alliance soldiers, and there were other Royal soldiers nearby, Levke surprisingly didn’t hold out until reinforcements arrived, and was killed.

“It’s been determined,” said a hovering vampire with a gloomy expression, “It seems he was shattered in the heart by a close-range plasma bomb.”

“How strange… Levke shouldn’t have been so careless,” Laimon Fonda furrowed his brows.

They had all trained in tactics to deal with close-range plasma bomb attacks, and with Royal soldiers supporting nearby, the probability of being killed by a plasma bomb was nearly zero.

Because it would take one bomb to break armor and then another to finish the kill.

If only one plasma bomb was used, Levke should have escaped when the armor broke.

For some reason, he suddenly recalled the trumpet-shaped weapon he had seen on the battlefield.

Though he hadn’t seen this weapon in action, he instinctively felt it might be related.

But on the battlefield, every second counts; they could figure out what happened after the battle.

“Laimon Fonda’s ten-man squad!”

“Here!”

“Fall in behind Blubbird Root’s ten-man squad.”

“Understood!”

Raising his tower shield, Laimon Fonda led the remaining eight Flesh Titans onto the embankment formed by zombies.

The top of the embankment was covered with wooden planks to prevent the heavy Flesh Titans from crushing it.

At that moment, blazing sun bombs rose across from them, cutting off control of advanced vampires and zombies.

Hiding his head behind the tower shield, the pinging sounds of lead bullets hitting it were like a crisp tune.

He looked to the side, under the blazing sun bomb, a countless number of vampire soldiers were advancing through knee-deep river water, holding rifles.

The river water was dyed gold-red by the sun bomb, contrasting the dark night in the distance, while under bird mask helmets were pairs of crimson eyes.

From the embankment to the distant hills were vampire soldiers in large columns charging forward.

Of course, even if it revealed a broad attack surface, due to varying depth and muddiness of the riverbed, the actual attack routes were fixed.

Compared to having only one bridge before, having more than a dozen options was quite favorable.

Especially in the central broad gravel riverbed, aligning two large columns for parallel attacks was more than sufficient.

On the river islet were rows of short wall bunkers and temporary earthen and wooden Triangle Forts.

On the battlefield, almost no traces of knights could be seen; the era when knights ruled was over, though cavalry were still around.

Stepping onto firm wooden planks, Laimon Fonda kept his head hidden behind the tower shield and moved forward step by step.

Before the Holy Alliance Army could bring over enough artillery, they needed to cross the embankment immediately and seize the artillery position.

Attacking the river islet before 12 o’clock, even taking it wouldn’t be an issue.

If they break through the river islet, then the enemy troops on the west bank will have no stronghold to defend.

Using numerical superiority and the river islet as a transfer hub, the Royal Court could easily push across the river, advancing west and north to end this war completely.

Destroy the absolute main force of the Holy Alliance, and the affluent Thousand River Valley will belong to them.

Serafe had promised them, living alongside the country wasn’t just an empty talk; they’d be restored to prince-level vampires and granted immortality.

Laimon Fonda tightened his grip on the tower shield’s handle, pressing forward against the shells and bullets, but thinking of the future, even the tower shield felt lighter.

After walking on the embankment for seven or eight minutes, Laimon Fonda noticed the once neat formation suddenly swaying.

More precisely, it was even in turmoil.

He raised his head and looked forward, only to see a burst of white light exploding in the dense night, accompanied by whooshing sounds in the air.

What is that?

With a whoosh, a short spear with a trumpet-shaped tip fell from the sky, firmly attaching itself to Laimon Fonda’s tower shield.

“Mag-…”