Trenches, Guns, and Magic

Saxon Empire, Dresden, Imperial Military Medical Center.

Since Morin's last departure, this already large-scale medical center had undergone a new round of expansion and renovation.

From the outside, it only appeared to have a few new buildings and tighter security measures, but the internal changes were earth-shattering.

The newly added super-large cafeteria (a key point), dozens of laboratories with various functions, independent rest areas prepared specifically for special personnel, and high-intensity training rooms all proclaimed the true purpose of this expansion—this place was to become the cradle for manufacturing the Empire's "super soldiers."

On the exact same day that Morin led his Kampfgruppe to tear open the Predeal Pass defense line with thunderous momentum, this comprehensive medical research center located in the heart of the Empire also welcomed a group of "guests" with special identities.

Inside a spacious waiting room within the medical center, a heavy wooden door was pushed open by an expressionless nurse, and three officers wearing crisp Guard Corps service uniforms strode in.

They were tall with a steady gait, and their custom-tailored officer uniforms by private tailors perfectly accentuated their upright postures.

The innate aristocratic aura radiating from the three men stood out exceptionally in this medical center filled with the smell of disinfectant.

Clearly, these three were "red-blooded" scions of Junker nobility.

An unwritten tradition circulated within the Saxon Army:

As long as they were not on a battlefield under a hail of bullets, and friendly forces or outsiders were present...

Then, whether soldiers or officers, they would change into their most presentable service uniforms and wear the medals they were most proud of.

This was not only to display personal honor, but also to manifest the majesty of the unit.

And the medals hanging on the chests of these three young officers before them were indeed enough to make them proud.

【Iron Cross 2nd Class】, 【Silver Infantry Assault Badge】, 【Bronze Close Combat Clasp】, and the 【Black Wound Badge】 representing combat injuries.

These heavy pieces of metal silently spoke of the fact that they were not those playboy dandies who only knew how to gold-plate their resumes and waste time in the rear.

Rather, they were "high-quality Saxon noble youths" who had truly inherited their ancestors' martial virtues and bled on the battlefield after the Emperor initiated the "Great Review of Noble Youth."

Since the outbreak of the war, the resumes of these three could be considered perfect.

From the initial border battles, to the subsequent sweeping counterattack against the Gallic Republic, and then to being reinforced along with their Guard units under the command of General Mackensen's First Army Group.

In the cold, damp trenches of the Northern Front, they had engaged in bayonet charges and hand-to-hand combat with the fierce Britannian Expeditionary Force.

They had fought through almost the entire campaign, experiencing several of the most brutal phases of this war.

Therefore, the aristocratic elegance and the iron-and-blood aura honed on the battlefield intertwined within them, forming a unique charm highly attractive to the opposite sex.

Eh, does this description sound a bit familiar?

It can only be said that after Morin grew to his current standing, he had become a sort of "role model" for educating the next generation among the Saxon Imperial nobility.

The "martial virtues" revered by their ancestors were also slowly being excavated from those other "Dresden playboys."

Of course, in the "playboy" department, compared to Morin, they certainly couldn't bear the prefix "famous"...

However, what surprised these three Guard officers somewhat was that the young nurse leading the way seemed completely immune to their charm.

As if she had seen it all too much?

From start to finish, her expression was extremely calm. She silently led them to the waiting room door, then turned and left without a word, not even offering a superfluous glance.

"Hey~ I say... has our charm decreased, or have the standards of the girls in Dresden gone up?"

One of the young captains found a comfortable chair and sat down, casually tossing his cap on the table to reveal neatly trimmed blond hair, lazily joking:

"When she looked at us, it was like she was looking at a pile of cold laboratory equipment."

"Who knows? Maybe the aura we're giving off today isn't quite right?"

Another shrugged and also sat down.

"I remember when I first got back from the Northern Front and went with my father to a cocktail party hosted by the Krupp family, I was the center of attention! Those socialites couldn't wait to swallow my medals!"

"That night, I spent the entire evening discussing the meaning of life with the second daughter of the Oldenburg family."

"Hahaha, you guy, can't you rein in those romantic exploits a bit?"

"Right, no matter how romantic you are, can you compare to the 'Famous Playboy of Dresden'? That guy even dared to touch the Countess's hand back in the day!"

After exchanging a few jokes, the atmosphere in the waiting room lightened considerably.

The captain who spoke first looked around the waiting room, observing the numerous chairs, and said thoughtfully:

"It seems quite a few people are participating in this 'secret mission' today... I wonder what exactly it is to be so mysterious."

At the mention of a "secret mission," the expressions of the other two instantly became serious.

They all knew very well that to pull three Guard officers currently fighting on the front lines back to the homeland—bypassing the army group command and using a direct secret order from the General Staff—the security clearance and importance of the mission were self-evident.

Furthermore, before they departed, the elders in their respective families had repeatedly exhorted them with unprecedented solemnity, saying a bunch of things like "This will be an opportunity to change the family's destiny," which left them completely bewildered.

An opportunity? What kind of opportunity required this kind of approach?

Just as the three were puzzling over this, the door to the waiting room was pushed open once again.

This time it was another nurse leading the way, followed by three non-commissioned officers whose aura was starkly different from theirs.

The three newly arrived NCOs held the rank of master sergeant. They all looked a bit older, around forty years old.

They lacked the deliberately maintained elegance of noble officers, replaced instead by a cold, hard aura like rock.

After entering the waiting room, the three simply gave a standard salute to the three officers, then walked silently to a corner and sat down. Their eyes revealed a chilling, unapproachable air.

Especially one of them, who had a hideous scar extending from the corner of his eye to his chin, adding a bit of ruthlessness to his appearance.

Although the other party were merely NCOs, when the three Guard officers casually glanced at their collar tabs, unit insignias, and the medals hanging on their chests, the relaxed expressions on their faces froze instantly.

They involuntarily sat up straight, and their mouths, which had just been joking with each other, obediently snapped shut.

Because those three master sergeants, with nearly maximum years of service, came from a unit that even they didn't dare underestimate—the Alpine Corps.

This unit was a specialized mountain combat unit formed by the Saxon Empire in the early stages of the war, learning from the painful lesson after suffering losses against the elite Gallic Snow Jägers in the Vosges Mountains.

Its core backbone was entirely composed of the Empire's most adept mountain combat units: the Bavarian elite Jäger battalions and Snow Infantry battalions.

In terms of training, they had wholesale adopted the new training syllabus compiled by the Imperial Instruction Unit, which was now revered as the standard by the entire army.

Of course, if it were merely a resounding unit name, it wouldn't be enough to make these three arrogant Guard officers exercise such restraint.

What truly made them feel awe were the medals on the chests of those three master sergeants, so numerous they almost couldn't fit.

【Iron Cross 1st Class】, 【Gold Infantry Assault Badge】, 【Silver Close Combat Clasp】, 【Gold Sniper Badge】, 【Silver Mountain Combat Badge】, 【Army Mountain Guide Badge】, 【Bavarian Military Merit Cross with Swords】, 【Alpine Campaign Medal】...

These rows of gleaming metal were simply a living history of the making of an elite Imperial soldier.

Close-quarters assault, hand-to-hand combat with bayonets, long-range precision shooting, high-altitude mountain climbing...

It could be said that these three veterans of the Alpine Corps had reached the pinnacle level in almost all areas an infantryman could involve themselves in. They were the undisputed "kings of soldiers" in the traditional sense.

The three Guard officers exchanged a glance, all seeing the same shock in each other's eyes.

Their military merits, which they were so proud of, suddenly seemed somewhat inadequate in front of these men.

The atmosphere in the waiting room instantly became somewhat heavy due to the arrival of the three Alpine Corps veterans.

The three Guard officers no longer conversed, simply sitting upright and proper. Their eyes occasionally darted toward the three "kings of soldiers" in the corner, their minds churning.

"Damn it, are these guys monsters?"

The captain who had spoken first cursed inwardly. For the first time, he felt the Iron Cross 2nd Class on his chest was a bit scorching.

The Iron Cross 1st Class—that was an honor that could only be obtained by completing 3 to 5 acts of heroic combat or outstanding fulfillment of duty after having already received the Iron Cross 2nd Class.

In their entire regiment, the officers who could obtain this medal could be counted on one hand, let alone soldiers.

Yet those three NCOs across the room actually had one each!

And that Gold Infantry Assault Badge; the condition to obtain it was participating in over twenty-five assault operations.

Twenty-five times! In the current context of large-scale trench warfare, every assault meant charging across no-man's-land, facing enemy machine guns, barbed wire, and artillery fire.

To survive twenty-five times could no longer be explained by good luck.

The small sense of superiority in the hearts of the three noble officers had now been crushed to powder.

They began to realize that this "secret mission" was probably even more important, and more dangerous, than they had imagined.

To draw elites of this caliber, what exactly were they going to do?

Naturally, the three Alpine Corps veterans in the corner also noticed the awe-filled gazes and the visibly restrained auras of the three young officers.

Although their faces remained expressionless, they felt a certain degree of secret satisfaction in their hearts.

So what if they were noble young masters of the Guard?

On the battlefield, rank and background were certainly important, but what truly earned respect was always solid military merit.

The honor they had bought with bullets, blood, and scars was more effective anywhere than a noble surname.

However, this sense of superiority based on illustrious military merit didn't last long either.

Because just a few minutes later, the waiting room door was pushed open for a third time.

This time, four soldiers walked in.

The moment they stepped into the room, an indescribable aura rushed over everyone.

It wasn't pure killing intent, but a heavy aura mixed with the smell of blood, gunpowder, and death, as if they had just walked out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

The six people in the waiting room—whether the arrogant Guard officers or the battle-hardened Alpine mountain troops—involuntarily sat up straight at this moment, their breathing catching in their throats.

Seeing the three company-grade officers and three master sergeants in the waiting room, the four soldiers snapped their heels together and stood at attention in perfect unison, delivering a standard military salute to them.

This action acted like a switch, causing the six previously seated men to spring from their chairs instantly and return the salute.

Especially the three Guard officers, whose facial expressions were somewhat awkward and embarrassed.

Because they suddenly realized that in this small waiting room, they had actually become the people with the lowest military merit and the shallowest seniority.

Their special identity as Guardsmen not only failed to bring them any sense of honor at this moment, but rather felt like a mockery.

After those four soldiers sat down, the three Guard officers couldn't help but stealthily scrutinize their uniforms again.

With one look, they didn't even dare breathe too loudly.

These four newly arrived soldiers belonged to the same unit—a "Stormtrooper Battalion" (Sturmbataillon) of a frontline infantry division.

This name, in the current regular forces of the Saxon Imperial Army, represented the sharpest spearhead; it was the indisputably most elite branch.

They were assault troops specially formed by the Empire to break the stalemate of trench warfare. Every member was a one-in-a-hundred elite selected from the entire army, equipped with the most advanced weapons and executing the most dangerous missions.

And the medals hanging on their chests made both the Guard officers and the Alpine Corps NCOs feel a wave of dizziness.

Leaving aside everything else for a moment, just one seemingly inconspicuous campaign commemorative medal was enough to make everyone present stand in awe.

【Verdun Fortress Assault Commemorative Medal】.

The Verdun Fortress... On the Saxon Army's side, this represented the bloodiest, most brutal meat grinder of the war to date.

And the recipients of this medal could be called legends among legends:

It was awarded to the first wave of soldiers who breached the interior of the Verdun Fortress and, in the subsequent multi-day defense, withstood wave after wave of mad-dog-like counterattacks from the Gauls.

As far as the three Guard officers knew, the vast majority of recipients of this medal were awarded it posthumously.

The medals, their pensions, and a letter personally signed by the Chief of the General Staff were sent together to their hometowns.

As for those who managed to receive this medal alive... they could no longer be simply described as "kings of soldiers."

They were evil spirits who had crawled back from hell; they were the most favored children of Odin.

"My God..."

Fine beads of cold sweat began to seep from the forehead of one Guard officer. He felt his heart pounding.

He turned his head to glance at his companions, finding their expressions equally complicated.

The doubts in everyone's hearts had now turned into massive question marks circling in their minds.

No, what the f*ck kind of secret mission was this?

To require gathering these monsters among monsters of the Imperial Army here one by one, like collecting rare species?

Were they going to assassinate the head of state of some Entente nation?

The atmosphere in the waiting room had become oppressive to the extreme.

Ten people, divided into three distinct small groups, with no one speaking. The air seemed to have solidified.

However, before they could recover from this oppressive atmosphere, the sound of dense footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor outside the waiting room.

Unlike the previous steady or deadly silent footsteps, these footsteps sounded somewhat chaotic, mixed with some relaxed talking and laughing, sounding like quite a large number of people.

With a "bang!", the waiting room door was pushed open somewhat roughly for the fourth time.

This time there was no nurse leading the way. A large group of soldiers bustled in.

Every single one of them wore a relaxed smile, maintaining two columns, their mouths still discussing which tavern in Dresden had the most authentic beer, and which beer maid had the slimmest waist and the biggest breasts.

This relaxed and comfortable atmosphere made it seem as if they weren't here for some secret mission, but on a group vacation to the capital.

This sudden scene caused the ten Imperial Army elites sitting stiffly in the waiting room to raise their eyebrows involuntarily.

However, when their gazes fell upon the unique insignias on the uniforms of this group of soldiers, everyone's pupils shrank instantly.

The Saxon braid on the collar representing supreme honor, the Saxon crown meticulously embroidered with silver thread on the cuffs, and the unique Roman numeral "I" beside it.

These insignias, across the entire massive Saxon Army order of battle, belonged to only one unit.

A unit that had been shrouded in an aura of legend since its inception, regarded as an idol and a goal by soldiers across the entire army.

The Imperial Guard Assault Instruction Unit.

"Shua!"

Almost like a conditioned reflex, the ten Army elites in the waiting room, including the four "evil spirits from hell" from the Stormtrooper Battalion, all sprang from their chairs.

Their bodies stood bolt upright, their eyes carrying a trace of disbelief and... fanaticism.

The air in the waiting room became somewhat bizarre due to the influx of these thirty instruction unit soldiers.

Those ten elites from the Guard, the Alpine Corps, and the Stormtrooper Battalion stood perfectly straight, like recruits undergoing an inspection. The shock and fanaticism intertwined in their eyes made them momentarily forget how to react.

And those thirty instruction unit soldiers, upon seeing these ten "seniors" in the room, also put away the playful smiles on their faces. Leading them, 1st Company Commander Klaus took a step forward and delivered a crisp salute.

The 1st Company veterans behind him also saluted in unison.

The three Guard officers finally woke from their stupor, hurriedly returning the salute, their movements even somewhat stiff.

The other seven NCOs also hurriedly returned the salute. Looking at this group of legendary soldiers before them, their feelings could be described as highly complicated.

After the instruction unit soldiers found places to sit down, the three Guard officers finally dared to stealthily scan them from the corner of their eyes.

With this look, their hearts, which had just been pounded somewhat numb by the Verdun survivors, suffered a heavy blow once again.

Because at a glance, everything gleaming gold was a military merit medal with the "Gold" prefix, dazzling the eyes.

The Iron Cross 1st Class seemed like standard issue on them; everyone had one.

Gold Infantry Assault Badges and Gold Close Combat Clasps were even more common.

What suffocated them even more were the densely packed rows of campaign commemorative medals above the left breast pockets of these men's uniforms.

【Battle of Liège Commemorative Medal】, 【Battle of Charleroi Commemorative Medal】, 【Battle of Paris Commemorative Medal】...

These campaigns had already been incorporated into the latest military history textbooks. They were required learning for all officers; one could say their value was maxed out.

Yet this group of people before them had participated in the entire process... This also meant they were living legends, the sharpest and most dazzling blades on the Empire's war machine!

However, what puzzled the ten elites the most was the unique aura exuded by the instruction unit soldiers.

In the hearts of all soldiers in the Imperial Army, the members of the instruction unit should be a group of unsmiling, murderous war machines.

They should be tall, robust "humanoid dinosaurs" with cold eyes, radiating a "do not approach" aura from head to toe, just like the four who had just walked out of the Stormtrooper Battalion.

But this bunch of people in front of them...

They were indeed lean and strong; everyone looked as if they were carved from granite, and the muscle definitions of some could be seen even through their uniforms.

But what was up with those relaxed, even somewhat undisciplined expressions on their faces?

There was no trace of the legendary murderous intent!

Clearly, these three Guard officers didn't quite understand what "united, tense, serious, and lively" meant... (A famous motto of the Chinese People's Liberation Army).

But regardless, not only the three Guard officers, but even the other seven Army elites were somewhat losing their composure at this point.

What kind of mission are we participating in, exactly? Why are the elites of the instruction unit also here? And they showed up with thirty people right off the bat?

The atmosphere in the waiting room thus became sharply divided.

On one side were ten soldiers from different elite units. They sat bolt upright with serious expressions, even deliberately slowing their breathing, as if they were in an examination hall.

On the other side were thirty soldiers from the instruction unit.

Their postures were relaxed. If it weren't for those overly dazzling uniforms, they looked no different from a group of people out having fun on a holiday.

"Company Commander, why did they send us back to Dresden for this mission? What exactly are we going to do?"

A veteran of the instruction unit leaned close to Klaus and asked in a low voice.

"How should I know."

Klaus spread his hands. "It's the Commander's order; we just execute it... Anyway, it's definitely not a bad thing."

"Hehe, true... But being able to go back to Dresden and rest for a few days feels really nice. In that dump in the Balkans, eating dirt every day, I almost forgot what beer tastes like."

"Look at you, aiming so low," Klaus laughed and scolded.

The volume of their conversation wasn't loud, but in this quiet waiting room, it still clearly reached the ears of the other ten people.

Judging from their tone, they didn't seem nervous about this mission at all. Instead, they cared more about the beer in Dresden...

Were these people truly the legendary invincible instruction unit?

The worldviews of the three Guard officers had been repeatedly reshaped and then shattered again within this short span of less than an hour today.

They had now completely given up thinking, merely sitting there numbly, waiting for the mystery to be revealed.

In this bizarre atmosphere, some more time passed.

Finally, the waiting room door was opened for the last time.