“Second Lieutenant Morin, is that right?”
The Commander of the 16th Infantry Brigade, Brigadier General Karl Paul, finally spoke. He was a man in his forties with a stern, determined face. “No wonder Lieutenant General Mackensen assigned you to the Military Observation Group… I originally thought it was some unclear case of nepotism, but now it seems you truly have some skill.”
Hearing this, Morin didn’t know how to respond. He knew best that his assignment to the Military Observation Group had nothing to do with his ability. Lieutenant General Mackensen had purely acted out of his relationship with his deceased friend’s son, wanting to train him properly—so, from a certain perspective, it was thanks to ‘nepotism.’ However, he had no mind to dwell on this now, standing quietly and awaiting the Brigadier General’s final decision.
“The intelligence you brought back is extremely valuable, Second Lieutenant Morin.” Brigadier General Paul’s tone was approving as he carefully studied the markings on the map. “This information will be of tremendous help to our next course of action—”
Hearing this, the ominous premonition in Morin’s heart grew stronger. His words did not sound like he intended to cancel the attack.
Sure enough, Brigadier General Paul’s next statement thoroughly chilled Morin’s heart.
“However, the attack plan will not change.”
This declaration caused not just Morin, but Major Thomas and the 32nd Regiment Commander beside him, to change their expressions.
“That’s right, Brigadier General!” A liaison officer from the International Brigades stepped forward, his voice slightly agitated. “We must seize this moment, while the Britannian reinforcements are not yet firmly established, to capture Seville in one swift move! This is the key to liberating the entire Andalusia region! Second Lieutenant Morin also just mentioned that the Royal Army is wreaking havoc in Seville; we cannot afford to wait any longer!”
The liaison officer from the National Army immediately agreed: “Yes, we cannot wait! The longer we delay, the stronger the enemy’s defenses will become!”
Major Thomas and the 33rd Regiment Commander attempted to voice objections, arguing that launching a full assault with incomplete intelligence posed too great a risk.
However, several Brigade Staff officers countered that the enemy information gathered before the battle was sufficiently detailed. Crucially, the exact positions of the Aetherium Crystal Cannons—which could inflict heavy casualties—had been scouted. Based on previous encounters with the Britannians in the overseas colonies, their Aetherium Crystal Cannons had a range of less than five kilometers. The Field Artillery Regiment currently reinforcing the 16th Infantry Brigade, equipped with both 77mm cannon and 105mm howitzers, had a superior range to the Britannians’ Aetherium Crystal Cannons. Therefore, they could launch a devastating preemptive strike on these Aetherium Crystal Cannon emplacements before the attack began! Once the Aetherium Crystal Cannons were neutralized, the remaining Royal Army and Britannian infantry would not be difficult to deal with.
The pro-attack and pro-delay factions argued vehemently, but ultimately, Brigadier General Paul made the final decision, announcing in an undeniable tone that the offensive on Seville would proceed. The argument in the tent abruptly ceased.
Major Thomas looked at Morin, shaking his head slightly, his eyes conveying: Don’t be rash, this is as far as we can go.
Morin clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it. He understood that the pro-attack staff officers were not wrong. Given the detailed intelligence and the advantage in artillery range, the offensive was tactically feasible. However, any attack launched would inevitably result in casualties. Yet, he also knew that nothing could change the decision now.
The impromptu military meeting concluded in this atmosphere of oppressive determination.
Leaving the Brigade Command tent, Morin, unwilling to give up, considered seeking out Lieutenant General Mackensen for one last attempt to halt the attack. However, he was told that Mackensen had already boarded a military train that afternoon, returning to the Expeditionary Force General Command in the rear. His last hope was extinguished.
Morin and Major Thomas rode side-by-side on the way back to the Battalion Command, both silent, their spirits heavy.
When the two returned to the 1st Battalion camp, they were greeted by faces filled with concern and anticipation. Captain Hauser was the first to meet them. “What’s the word, Major? What did Brigade Command say?”
Major Thomas tiredly shook his head, saying nothing. The other Battalion officers felt their hearts sink upon seeing their commander’s expression. Morin looked at the men’s disappointed faces, feeling a surge of bitterness himself. He knew he had done his best. But individual effort, against the immense war machine and the will of a higher command, was ultimately insignificant.
“The attack plan remains unchanged.” Major Thomas answered the unspoken question. “I expect the formal order from the Brigade Command will arrive in an hour or two. We are projected to break camp in the latter half of the night and enter the attack positions. The assault on Seville will officially begin tomorrow morning.”
Morin didn’t know what else he could do. Perhaps the only thing left for him was to survive this brutal battle as a junior officer, leading his platoon to live through it.
“Everyone, return and rest.” Major Thomas finally spoke, his voice resolute. “You are soldiers of the Saxon Empire. Our duty is to obey orders and fight for the Empire! Get enough rest. We have a tough fight ahead of us tomorrow. Understand?!”
The officers snapped to attention with a loud, “YES, SIR!”
In the main command tent of the 16th Infantry Brigade, most people had left, leaving only the Brigadier General and his Chief of Staff.
“You, too, hesitated about this attack, didn’t you?” The 16th Infantry Brigade Chief of Staff looked at Brigadier General Paul’s tired profile and quietly asked. “I’m curious why you ultimately decided to forcefully proceed with the offensive.”
Brigadier General Paul was silent for a long time, letting out a heavy sigh. He didn’t answer directly, instead turning to retrieve a telegram that had been delivered directly to him before the meeting from a filing box, handing it to the Chief of Staff.
“See for yourself.”
It was a telegram from the Imperial General Staff. The content was simple and direct, commanding the 16th Infantry Brigade in the clearest possible terms to cooperate with allied forces to capture Seville within a specified timeframe, at any cost, and ensure its firm control.
The Chief of Staff was still reeling from the General Staff’s unyielding order when his eyes fell on the final paragraph of the telegram. That single line made him stop breathing.
The General Staff has ordered the ‘Zeppelin’-class Armored Airship—L30—which is currently on standby in the Mediterranean airspace, to proceed immediately to provide support after completing its resupply at sea.
“An Armored Airship…” The Chief of Staff’s hand trembled slightly as he held the telegram, finding it unbelievable. He never imagined that the General Staff’s emphasis on Seville was so high that they would mobilize an Armored Airship, one of the Empire’s strategic assets. That was a true aerial behemoth, a powerful weapon capable of hovering over the enemy and raining fire down at will.
“Now you understand.” The Brigadier General sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “For me, this wasn’t a choice; it was a direct order.”
The Chief of Staff gently placed the telegram back on the desk, all his doubts resolved, replaced by a complex emotion mixed with excitement and awe. “I understand, sir. But why Seville? What is so attractive about this city?”
“The newly surveyed Luminite Ore vein is located right beneath the Seville area.”
The Chief of Staff finally understood and asked no further questions. The Brigadier General looked up at the tent ceiling, as if he could see through the canvas to the night sky, which was about to become turbulent. After a moment, he looked at the time on his pocket watch and instructed his Chief of Staff: “In two hours, have the messengers deliver the operational orders to the battalions. The Brigade Headquarters and other attached units will also prepare to move forward!”
Morin returned to the 3rd Company’s position, where Captain Hauser had followed him. “Morin, don’t think too much! Sometimes, that’s just how it is for a soldier. We just need to execute the order.”
“I know, Captain.”
“Good.” Hauser patted his back. “You’ve done enough for today. Go back and get some sleep!”
Morin nodded, said goodbye to Captain Hauser, and returned to his tent. The moment his head touched the pillow, the overwhelming drowsiness eclipsed everything else, and he instantly fell into a deep sleep.
Just as he rapidly sank into slumber, a new line of information appeared in the system’s ‘Intelligence’ tab.
[Friendly strategic unit detected. Information analysis in progress…]
[Saxon Empire Air Force – ‘Zeppelin’-class Armored Airship – L30]
[Status: Currently undergoing resupply at sea]
[Estimated Time of Arrival: 15 hours, 21 minutes]
(End of Chapter 27)