The first strike had been a success, but it was still too early to relax.
Even amid the chaos, I could see some of them moving rather briskly.
We had to suppress them as quickly as possible.
I swept over the red dots on the [Minimap] directly with my binoculars and searched for the next target. Just then, I spotted a suitable one at ten o’clock.
‘Analyze status.’
[Target: Pillbox No. 3]
[Notable Details: Preparing machine-gun fire, observation slit open]
I immediately pressed the radio button.
“Next. Pillbox No. 3 on the right. Observation slit confirmed open. Ten o’clock.”
[Roger!]
Whiiir!
At my command, the 88 mm barrel shifted minutely. The gunners adjusted the level and peered into the sight for a moment.
“Fire.”
Kwaaang!
With a sharp crack, the armor-piercing shell crossed the river and was sucked precisely into the narrow opening.
Kwarrrrung!
The rear entrance was torn off, and flames backwashed through the gunport. Black smoke rose like a chimney.
‘Clean.’
I nodded in satisfaction. But there was no time to rest.
“Next, behind the sandbags at eleven o’clock.”
I pointed with my finger. Soldiers who had rushed out in their underwear were hurriedly trying to mount a machine gun.
Tututututu!
This time, it was the coaxial machine gun that spat fire. The Republican soldiers groaning behind the sandbags were turned into beehives and danced.
Even so, the enemy kept moving.
“Get up! Return fire! They’re across the river!”
[Name: Andre]
[Rank: Captain]
[Status: Attempting to maintain the front line by encouraging his subordinates.]
A window on the second floor of the central building. A man who appeared to be an officer was shouting at the top of his lungs.
“There’s a noisy one. Second floor of the central command post. Left pillar of the window.”
[Vehicle One! Window of the two-story building ahead! Blow it away!]
This time, it was Major Frederica’s voice.
Kwaang!
The tank gun fired. The trajectory of the shell was visible to the naked eye.
Puhk! Kwajik!
The upper part of the building was ripped away whole. The window where the officer had been standing had become a gaping hole, and the collapsed ceiling came crashing down over it. The noisy shouting cut off as well.
Whiiiiir—!!
And at the same time, from the sky came the distinctive, tearing metallic shriek of dive bombers.
“Good timing.”
I smiled in satisfaction and grabbed the next radio. Now came the most important step. We needed a unit to break through this web of fire, cross the river, and secure a bridgehead.
“Lieutenant Franz, Sergeant Gunther.”
[Yes! Standing by!]
“Did you bring the rubber boats?”
[They’re pumped full of air!]
“Now’s the time. Cross while they’ve got their heads down. Get over there, plant the flag, and hold out.”
[Understood! Assault team! The lieutenant colonel is watching! Row!]
“Waaaaah—!”
A scene of utter chaos, with dive bombers flying low and tank shells skimming overhead.
Beneath it, dozens of black rubber boats slid out onto the river. Franz and Gunther, at the head, rowed across like madmen.
‘Analyze status.’
[Status: Blind loyalty toward Max Jaeger, exhilaration, hero complex]
It was something ordinary soldiers could never have done, but these men, filled with loyalty toward me, carried out the order without hesitation.
Finally, I turned my gaze to the engineer commander.
“Deploy the engineers. Set up the pontoon bridge.”
“L-Lieutenant Colonel! The shelling hasn’t stopped yet! If even a stray shell falls…!”
The engineer company commander shouted, his face deathly pale.
Yes, this was definitely the normal reaction. Ordering someone to build a bridge while tank shells were flying overhead was the same as telling them to die.
But there was no time to wait.
‘Charming Speech.’
I gripped his shoulder tightly.
[Skill ‘Charming Speech (Lv.3)’ has been activated.]
“Captain. My men are crossing over there with nothing but rubber boats to trust, bare-bodied. Do you see them?”
“……!”
“Are you planning to let them die like dogs across the river? You have to lay the bridge so the tanks can cross, and only then will my men live.”
[Skill ‘Charming Speech (Lv.3)’ stimulates the target’s sense of responsibility and comradeship.]
“Save your comrades. Isn’t that the duty of an engineer?”
“……I-I’ll do it!”
The engineer company commander said with a grim expression.
“All personnel, drop the pontoon modules! If we die, we die on the river! Assemble it, quickly!”
Splash, splash!
The engineers leapt into the river.
Overhead, shells rained down; on the river, rubber boats raced forward; and in the water, engineers linked together a bridge—a bizarre sight.
Through the [Minimap], I watched the red dots scatter in complete panic.
The first button of Operation Sickle was being fastened splendidly.
*
Forty kilometers behind the Rosenheim front.
The morning in Soissons, a key point of the Republic and a rear supply city where the 2nd Corps Headquarters was located, was peaceful.
“Tanks? In the Ashen Forest?”
Except for the sudden news that had just arrived.
“Did I hear that wrong?”
Lieutenant General Henri de Dubois, commander of the Republic’s 2nd Corps, wore an displeased expression. He had been pleasantly cutting into a croissant for breakfast, only to receive this absurd report.
The chief of staff spread several black-and-white aerial reconnaissance photographs across the desk and replied.
“Yes, Your Excellency. They were taken by a reconnaissance plane passing over the Ashen Forest at dawn today. Through gaps in the dense trees, objects presumed to be large-scale armored forces were identified.”
“…Huh.”
Henri let out a hollow laugh and picked up the photographs. In the blurry images, dark masses hidden beneath the shade of trees had been captured.
“Large-scale armored forces, you say.”
He stroked his chin for a moment and turned his head toward the map hanging on the wall. The Ashen Forest. Dense woods and rugged terrain. The ground was marshland, and the roads were like a maze. A region where, by the textbook, armored unit operations were impossible—no, where maneuver itself was suicide.
An exceedingly common-sense conclusion formed in Henri’s mind.
“It’s a deception.”
“Pardon?”
“Think about it, Colonel. If those Imperial bastards had tanks to spare, why would they shove them into such a rough forest? They would have pushed straight down the Rosenheim front instead.”
Henri, filled with conviction, tossed the photographs onto the desk with a slap.
“These are fakes. Models made by covering trucks with plywood or corrugated board to make them look like tanks. In other words, a deception tactic. They must be so short on troops that they’re trying everything.”
“But… according to intelligence, there are rumors that the Imperial 1st Armored Division is on the move….”
“Yes, Falkenheim, I suppose.”
Henri snorted.
“Wilhelm von Falkenheim, the emperor’s hound. That man has grown old, too. His instincts are dead. To think he would set up such an obvious scarecrow and try to lure our corps toward the forest.”
He clicked his tongue. They said a great commander recognized another, but this move was far too shallow.
“It’s a textbook case of making noise in the east and striking in the west, isn’t it? They make a ruckus with engine noise in the forest and show us models, trying to turn our eyes that way. It’s obvious they intend to divert their main force elsewhere in the meantime.”
Rrrrring—!
It was then. The direct line on the desk rang noisily.
Henri leisurely set down his coffee cup and picked up the receiver.
“Corps commander speaking.”
[Report! This is the forward Rosenheim front! The Imperial Army… the Imperial Army has begun a large-scale offensive!]
The sound of artillery came from beyond the receiver. The messenger’s voice was urgent.
The corners of Henri’s mouth slowly lifted.
“As expected.”
[It’s the 7th Infantry Brigade! They’re pouring in every bit of firepower they can use! This is… a full-scale breakthrough attempt!]
“Understood. Do not panic and hold your current positions.”
Henri hung up and turned to the chief of staff. Certainty gleamed in his eyes.
“Did you hear that? Rosenheim. What they were truly aiming for was the front after all.”
“Ah…!”
The chief of staff slapped his knee as if he had finally realized it.
“Indeed…! The tanks in the forest were bait. Their plan was to fool us with those models and make us disperse our forces toward the forest, then break through the thinned Rosenheim defensive line!”
“That Falkenheim bastard has gotten rusty. Did he think I would fall for such a childish trick?”
Henri wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and took up his baton.
“We will concentrate our main forces on the Rosenheim defense line. Leave only the bare minimum of remaining units and send everything to the front. Ignore the forest.”
“However… Your Excellency. About the Bern River garrison.”
The cautious chief of staff carefully asked one final question.
“The scheduled communication time with the river garrison has passed, yet there has been no reply. Shouldn’t we verify this?”
The armored forces discovered in the Ashen Forest, and the Bern River garrison’s consecutive failure to respond to communications. From the chief of staff’s perspective, it was a somewhat suspicious situation.
But Henri merely frowned.
“…Must I concern myself with even that? Confirm it and take measures on your own.”
He regarded it as an ordinary line issue and did not consider it significant.
It was a phenomenon that arose because, while the Republic’s technology was generally ahead of the Empire’s, wireless communication technology was the exception. Vacuum tubes vulnerable to humidity and lines that snapped at the slightest provocation were chronic headaches for Republican commanders.
‘Those communications squad bastards are probably struggling to tune the frequency again.’
Thinking this, Henri wiped the corners of his mouth with the napkin.
He did not know.
The wired telephone lines had been severed by the Imperial Army’s fierce bombardment, and the underperforming radios had fallen silent amid jamming and panic.
Even the messenger he had trusted had long since evaporated under an 88 mm high-explosive shell the moment he started his motorcycle.
A small number of surviving routed soldiers were running over in terror, but the tracks of the Imperial tanks were far faster than their two feet.
In other words, sometimes steel was faster than information.