Trenches, Guns, and Magic

The communication stone quickly transmitted the "Baron's" reply.

"Copy that. I am already withdrawing to the designated location to set up the 【Teleportation Circle】. Buy us at least half an hour... No, twenty minutes!"

"Old Man": "Twenty minutes? Understood..."

Twenty minutes wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. If they were dealing with Bulgarians, "Old Man" wouldn't have considered it difficult.

But against the Saxon regular army, it was a different story entirely. Based on their previous encounters, Saxon soldiers were not to be trifled with.

"You don't need to block them head-on!"

The "Baron" added from the other end of the stone.

"Let the Greeks bear the brunt of the frontal assault. You support from the perimeter, just make sure the Greeks don't collapse too quickly! The moment I'm ready, I'll signal you. Do not hesitate, pull back immediately, and we leave together!"

"Understood, Sir!"

The communication ended. "Old Man" deactivated the stone and scanned the eight men he had brought out with him.

Four Spell Jägers, four heavy armor warriors.

"Listen up. We need to buy some time for the 【Teleportation Circle】... We are not engaging these enemies head-on, but we can't let the Saxons break through too quickly either."

"Jägers, scatter and find firing positions. Target their machine gunners and officers. 'Ironmen,' stand by to cover them..."

"...But remember, if you're compromised, relocate immediately. Absolutely do not get bogged down in a firefight."

The Spell Jägers nodded and scattered to find suitable positions.

The four heavy armor warriors remained slightly further back as cover. As "Old Man" had ordered, if a Spell Jäger was compromised, they were to step in, use their lives to draw fire, and cover the Jägers' retreat.

Intense gunfire echoed continuously through the brightening mountain forest.

Barak led the 2nd Company forward along the telephone lines. They even found several other field telephone lines converging from different directions, indicating they were close to their target.

Just as Barak expected, a squad leader sent ahead for reconnaissance quickly returned and crouched low beside him.

"Company Commander! There's a circular fortification two hundred meters ahead. I took some men up for a look—at least two heavy machine guns visible!"

Barak: "Can you confirm if it's the enemy command post?"

"Highly likely. You can faintly see tents further back, and a few erected antennas!"

Barak rejoiced inwardly. He followed the squad leader to a forward position, lay prone behind a fallen tree, and quickly scanned the area with his binoculars.

The slightly distorted image in the lenses indeed showed a circular defensive position. Judging by its scale and structure, it was likely the outer defense of some command facility.

"That's it. Looks like we hit the jackpot!"

Barak lowered his binoculars. Just as he was about to outline the attack plan, a hum approached from above.

He looked up and, through the gaps in the treetops, faintly saw a massive armored airship flying in from the northeast, silhouetted against the rising sun.

All the machine gun and autocannon turrets beneath the L15 armored airship were continuously strafing corresponding targets guided by signal flares from the ground.

Through numerous joint operations, the ground troops and armored airships had developed a primitive yet somewhat effective support protocol.

Skipping the finer details, it simply involved firing flares of a pre-agreed color toward enemy positions before launching an attack.

This meant instruction unit soldiers generally had to creep within 80 meters of an enemy position to begin directing the armored airship's ground attacks.

Regardless, it was better than nothing. Anything that draws the pus is a good poultice...

After observing the armored airship's heading, Barak patted the company sergeant beside him. The sergeant pulled three red signal flares from his webbing and handed them to a highly capable-looking soldier.

"Direct the armored airship's attack. Remember, fire three flares in rapid succession toward the enemy command post!"

"Yes, Sir!"

The instruction unit soldier slinked away. Under the cover of his comrades, he crept close to the Greek position, finally rolling into a depression that barely concealed him.

Moments later, three red signal flares trailing smoke shot toward the Greek command post in quick succession.

Almost simultaneously, the L15 armored airship in the sky spotted the signals. According to pre-battle protocols, three consecutive red flares meant the enemy's forward command post had been located and required priority attack.

On the bridge of the armored airship, Lieutenant Colonel Andreas confirmed the location of the flares and ordered ground fire support.

Several autocannon and machine gun turrets beneath the hull began pouring ammunition into the area marked by the three red flares.

As the sky brightened, the Greek-dug positions on the ground became more visible, significantly improving the accuracy of the L15's ground attacks.

The Greeks, who were still trying to organize a defense, saw their will to fight plummet after being battered from the air.

To these Greek soldiers, who had never seen an armored airship, let alone experienced such helpless, passive bombardment, the psychological impact of the behemoth in the sky was immense.

The return fire from the outer defenses of the forward command post rapidly weakened. Barak, who had been observing, decisively seized the opportunity.

"Entire company, attack! Breach the outer fortifications!"

The soldiers of the 2nd Company leaped from their cover in the woods. Under the concealment of continuously thrown stick grenades and smoke grenades, they charged the Greeks' circular position.

The attack went quite smoothly initially. The complex forest environment provided the instruction unit soldiers with abundant cover.

And for instruction unit soldiers who treated the 400-meter obstacle course as basic training, this terrain didn't slow them down; instead, it allowed them to continuously close the distance.

The suppressive fire from multiple MG14 light machine guns set up in the rear also kept the Greeks in the opposing position pinned down.

Or rather, before the armies of other nations issued light machine guns to the platoon level, the soldiers of the Saxon Imperial Army were their "strict fathers" in firepower confrontations.

The most critical firepoints in the Greek position—the two heavy machine guns mounted front and center—received special attention.

Riflemen equipped with optical sights delivered precise, single-shot fire from two hundred meters away. The moment anyone tried to step up and operate the guns, they were met with a full-power 7.92mm round.

The sustained fire capability of the M1915 semi-automatic rifle also granted the shooters extremely high error tolerance. Even if the first shot missed, they could rapidly follow up with another.

This resulted in the two "whoever touches it dies" heavy machine guns firing only sporadically, utterly failing to establish effective suppressive fire.

Seeing the situation developing favorably, Barak readied his weapon, preparing to lead the assault teams in the final charge.

Crack!

A crisp gunshot, accompanied by a flash of blue light.

A few meters away from Barak, the head of an MG14 gunner suddenly exploded, his body toppling to the side.

"Watch out! Snipers!"

A second and third gunshot rang out in quick succession.

Following two flashes of blue tracer lines, two more MG14 gunners were targeted, their entire upper torsos obliterated.

These shots accurately focused on the 2nd Company's fire support nodes. The attacking shooters clearly knew who to target.

More importantly, the power of these attacks was clearly beyond that of a standard rifle. Even a full-power cartridge couldn't obliterate an adult man's upper torso like that...

"Flak!!! Reposition! All machine gun teams, relocate! Deploy smoke for cover!"

Barak cursed angrily. While leading the others in throwing smoke grenades to obscure the area, he ordered the riflemen to lay down suppressive fire on several suspected firing directions.

But the snipers seemed to have anticipated this. They frequently changed positions after firing, rarely taking a second shot from the same spot.

Barak lay prone behind a large tree, his expression grim as he watched the direction the fire came from. He quickly realized the people targeting his machine gunners were no ordinary Greek soldiers.

Because their firing accuracy, target selection, and tactical proficiency were entirely beyond the capabilities of Greek soldiers.

Coupled with the fleeting blue trajectories, it was clearly the power of magic.

Damn it... Are these the mage units mentioned in the pre-battle intel?

Meanwhile, at the temporary command post of the 1st Battalion.

Morin sat on the ground, resting with his eyes closed while monitoring the continuously updating battlefield information on the system map.

Since the attack began, everything was essentially proceeding according to plan.

The 2nd Company's penetrating breakthrough at the front of the position was beautiful. The 1st and 3rd Companies had successfully secured the breach, allowing the reinforcing Bulgarian soldiers to pour in, and successfully blocked the Greeks' attempts to reinforce from other directions.

The Bulgarians seemed to have received the message as well—dense gunfire and war cries erupted across the frontal defensive line. The long-suppressed Bulgarian soldiers finally charged out of their trenches.

But Morin quickly opened his eyes, because just seconds ago, a group of special unit markers he had been waiting for appeared on the system map near the 2nd Company.

【Holy Britannia Empire—"Spell Jäger" Reconnaissance Squad】

Finally...

The corners of Morin's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He immediately pulled out his portable magitech communication device and contacted the armored airship above.

"Lieutenant Colonel Andreas, enemy mage units may be operating in the 2nd Company's direction of attack. I need you to head there immediately and prepare to airdrop the Thunder Warriors!"

"Copy that, Colonel! We are already providing fire support for the 2nd Company, but we need to complete the deployment of an Armored Knight right now to support the ground troops and resupply their ammunition!"

"Understood, execute as fast as possible!"

Morin naturally understood the airdrop operation the armored airship was currently performing. This was also a newly developed advanced tactical subject.

Because the magitech technicians discovered that when airdropping an Armored Knight, these metal hulks could actually carry a massive amount of extra supplies down with them, conveniently providing emergency resupply to the ground troops.

This was especially useful in situations like the current one, where the entire 1st Battalion had only carried minimum rations and ammunition for a light forced march.

As the Armored Knight, strapped with ammunition crates, activated 【Feather Fall】 and jumped from beneath the armored airship, Morin contacted Klaus.

"Klaus, the 'big fish' are finally out. Prepare to airdrop; I will rendezvous with you on the ground!"

"Understood, Commander! The Thunder Warriors are prepped and ready to drop at any time!"

After giving his orders, Morin closed the communicator and grabbed his two shotguns—one gold, one silver—leaning against a tree trunk. He checked his webbing and the Dark Sword slung across his back.

Then, handing ground combat command over to Wolf, Morin launched himself from the gentle slope like he was catapulted, vanishing into the morning light filtering through the trees in a few bounds.

On the other side, "Old Man" finished another shot, dropping a Saxon non-commissioned officer. He rolled away from his firing position, executing a series of evasive maneuvers to relocate behind another tree a dozen meters away.

He had just consecutively killed several machine gunners and suspected NCOs. His kill efficiency was indeed high, but he knew these good times wouldn't last.

Because the reaction speed of these Saxons exceeded his expectations, or rather, they had improved significantly since their first encounter on the Western Front.

There was indeed brief chaos after the first two shots, but from the third shot onward, a massive volume of small arms fire began to blanket his general direction.

Even he had to admit, the speed at which these Saxons determined firing directions was terrifyingly fast.

"'Old Man,' relocating!"

The young Spell Jäger's warning came from behind. "Old Man" waved a hand in acknowledgment, then hunched over and moved to his next pre-planned position.

His chosen firing positions were all on a pre-planned retreat route, spaced dozens of meters apart. He fired and moved, never lingering.

This was the lesson the Spell Jägers learned after their brief clashes with the Saxons: when fighting elite Saxon troops, if you stay in one spot for more than ten seconds, you can expect a hail of precise incoming fire the next.

Sure enough, just seconds after he left, the tree he had been behind was struck by a burst of 7.92mm bullets, riddling it with bullet holes.

"Tch... their reactions are definitely getting faster..."

"Old Man" cursed under his breath, continuing to run to his next spot.

The other four Spell Jägers around him were doing the same thing— hit-and-run, reposition and hit again.

And their "sparrow warfare" harassment tactics were indeed effective. Faced with constant, precise sniper fire, the advance of Barak's 2nd Company was noticeably slowed.

To avoid excessive casualties, Barak had to order his troops to stay low, advance more conservatively, and dedicate personnel to deal with the phantom-like snipers.

But that was all.

The Spell Jägers could slow the 2nd Company down, but under the constraint of preserving themselves through non-contact combat, they couldn't halt the 2nd Company's offensive.

The instruction unit soldiers weren't the Greeks or the Bulgarians, and Barak wouldn't stop just because he lost a few machine gunners.

Although the instruction unit officers, influenced by Morin, generally cared for their soldiers—or rather, Saxon Imperial officers inherently had a tradition of acting like "patriarchs"—

Once in combat, to achieve tactical objectives, these officers wouldn't let casualties deter them.

Not to mention, he had just received orders from Morin: "Pin down those suspected enemy mage units. I'm on my way, and the Thunder Warriors are about to airdrop!"

Although Barak still didn't know the mechanics of how Morin perceived the battlefield situation, that clearly didn't matter anymore.

He immediately adjusted his firepower deployment, laying down area suppressive fire on suspected sniper locations while continuously throwing more smoke grenades to obscure "Old Man" and his team's vision.

Fwip fwip fwip fwip!

Bullets constantly zipped through the woods. Although most were blocked by tree trunks, occasional hits on the trunks the Spell Jägers hid behind, or even glancing hits on their mana shields, forced them back into cover.

Seizing the gap, the 2nd Company assault teams resumed their advance.

"Old Man" lay prone behind a dirt bank, feeling the shrapnel and broken branches flying overhead.

He checked the time. Less than ten minutes had passed since he began providing cover, and the "Baron" said they needed at least twenty minutes.

Still halfway to go...

"'Old Man'! Arnold on the right flank is compromised!" An urgent voice came through the communication stone.

"Old Man" peeked toward the right. Sure enough, a Spell Jäger was retreating toward the rear, with a massive volume of fire practically chasing him. His position had clearly been locked onto.

Forced into a corner, the Spell Jäger had no choice but to activate 【Misty Step】, trailing smoke as he blinked directly beside two heavy armor soldiers.

The two heavy armor warriors immediately stood up, raising their shields to provide cover in front, then grabbed the Spell Jäger and retreated behind some cover.

"We can't hold them..." "Old Man" licked his chapped lips.

It wasn't that their skills were lacking; it was that the opposing Saxons simply weren't playing along.

Unlike their first encounter with Saxon soldiers on the Western Front, this time, after taking losses, not only did they not retreat, they pressed forward even more fiercely.

What unsettled "Old Man" even more was that the enemy seemed to have detached a group specifically to hunt them down.

That group moved differently from the other Saxon soldiers—more covertly, more purposefully.

Immediately following, the noise from above and the massive armored airship bearing down on them made cold sweat break out on "Old Man's" face.

The reaction speed of these Saxons was simply too fast, so fast it felt like they were being specifically targeted...

Just as "Old Man" was rapidly thinking of how to shake off these pursuers and safely retreat to the Baron, he suddenly looked up in terror toward the mountain forest ahead.

Although there were no signs, nor did he feel any strong magical fluctuations.

But an inexplicable sixth sense told "Old Man" that some terrifying existence was charging right at them.