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    After a night of pursuit and advance, by the early morning of August 6th, as the first ray of sunshine illuminated the ancient city, the Meuse River Battle Group had largely gained complete control of Liège City.

    Resistance within the city had mostly subsided, with only scattered gunshots still echoing in the corners of the city.

    The majority of the Flanders garrison, caught in that unprecedented great chaos, chose to break out toward the northwest, following the ‘instructions’ sent in Morin’s telegram.

    However, their breakout route was quickly blocked by the massive forces of the Meuse River Battle Group which were flanking them—after all, the size of this Battle Group also reached 60,000 men.

    Ultimately, only about half of the garrison managed to escape, with the vast majority of the routed troops becoming prisoners of the Saxon Empire.

    The twelve forts on the perimeter were also mostly abandoned by the fleeing garrison and occupied by the follow-up Saxon forces without any effort.

    Only Loncin Fortress and Lantin Fortress, located in the northwest, were still offering futile resistance due due to communication failure and the stubbornness of their commanders.

    But having lost the energy supply from the Magic Power Hub and the unified command of the Fortress Command Post, these two isolated forts became sitting ducks.

    Against the Armored Airships that had returned to the battlefield, their destruction by Heavy Siege Shells was only a matter of time.

    Liège Fortress, a cluster widely considered impregnable by military experts before the war, was thus declared fallen in less than two days.

    This news would soon cause an earthquake among all the nations fighting on the Western Front.

    Second Army Group Command Post.

    When General von Bulow received the latest battle report from the frontline Meuse River Battle Group from the communications staff officer, he thought he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.

    “Are you sure the content of this telegram hasn’t been mistranslated?”

    His hand, holding the telegram, trembled slightly. He looked up at the young staff officer before him, his voice filled with disbelief.

    “Reporting, General, I have confirmed it three times and verified it once more via wired telephone…” The staff officer stood rigidly at attention, answering loudly, his face also etched with shock.

    “The Meuse River Battle Group reports that they have fully controlled Liège City this morning. The main force of the Liège Fortress cluster garrison has been defeated, and the commander, General Leman, was killed in last night’s raid.”

    General von Bulow looked down at the telegram one more time, then slowly placed it on the table.

    He fell silent.

    In the entire Operations Room, all the officers held their breath, focusing their gaze on the elderly, gray-haired general.

    After a long time, General von Bulow, as if expending all his strength, suddenly slammed his fist onto the table.

    “Bang!”

    The loud noise startled everyone.

    But what they saw next was the look of immense relief on the old general’s face.

    He slumped back, sinking heavily into his chair, as if all the bones in his body had been pulled out.

    The 66-year-old veteran had been continuously commanding the battle for Liège for almost an entire day without closing his eyes. At this moment, upon hearing this earth-shattering good news, the tight string of nerves that had been stretched taut finally released completely.

    “Send a telegram to the General Staff!” General von Bulow’s voice was hoarse from lack of sleep, but the excitement in it was undeniable: “Immediately report the latest military situation to the Chief of the General Staff!”

    “Yes, General!” The Aide-de-Camp departed with the order.

    General von Bulow leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. In his mind, the slightly plump face of Ludendorff and the young, confident face of Morin involuntarily surfaced.

    “Two lunatics, one old, one young…” he muttered softly: “Who would have thought that their insane plan actually succeeded.”

    An overwhelming drowsiness washed over him. At the repeated urging of his Aide-de-Camp and staff officers, General von Bulow finally agreed to rest for a while.

    As he was helped toward the cot in the adjacent temporary rest room, in the final moment before falling asleep, only one thought remained in his mind.

    —The nature of warfare might truly be about to change.

    When Morin woke up from his sleep, it was already noon on August 6th.

    Sunlight shone through the broken windows of the warehouse, forming columns of light in the dusty air. He sat up from his field cot, feeling as if all the bones in his body were disjointed, aching and sore. But this feeling of exhaustion made him feel incredibly grounded.

    It felt good to be alive…

    The entire Instruction Assault Battalion, as the foremost contributor to the capture of Liège Fortress, was also the first unit in the Meuse River Battle Group to enter a period of rest. The other units in the Battle Group had no objections to this arrangement. Everyone knew that without the unit’s miracle strike last night, this difficult siege battle would never have ended so quickly.

    In fact, the officers and soldiers of the 14th Infantry Brigade, who had been saved by the Instruction Assault Battalion during the night battle, even actively helped them clear several clean and spacious warehouses and barracks upon learning the Assault Battalion needed a rest area.

    Overnight, the standing of the Instruction Assault Battalion within the entire Second Army Group was elevated immensely. No one referred to them as the ‘Crown Prince’s expensive toy’ anymore; instead, they were regarded as an ace force capable of performing miracles.

    On the logistics side, all kinds of supplies… especially ammunition and medical supplies, were prioritized for them. Of course, this was also due to the consumption rate of the Instruction Assault Battalion, which, armed with a large number of automatic weapons, far exceeded that of conventional units.

    Morin stretched, preparing to get up and find something to eat, when a Orderly approached with a still-warm mess tin.

    “Battalion Commander, you’re awake! Commander Kleist asked you to eat something first.” The mess tin contained a bowl of thick soup, two sizzling pieces of fried meat, and half a loaf of bread resting on top.

    Morin devoured the food while listening to the Orderly’s report. During his time asleep, Kleist and Manstein, who had woken up earlier, had already led men to complete the resupply of ammunition and equipment for the entire battalion and had reorganized the troops.

    “Where is Kleist?” Morin asked after drinking the last bit of milk.

    “The Deputy Battalion Commander is compiling the casualty report; he should be here soon.”

    No sooner had he spoken than Kleist’s tall figure appeared at the warehouse door.

    “Sir, you are awake.” He walked up to Morin and handed over a casualty statistics report.

    Morin took the report and quickly scanned it. In the fighting from last night until this morning, the twenty-man Assault Team that participated in the Air Drop suffered two killed and seven wounded. The entire Instruction Assault Battalion suffered a total of thirty-nine killed and twenty-eight wounded, six of whom were seriously injured and temporarily lost combat effectiveness.

    Seeing this number, although he knew that there would inevitably be casualties in real combat, Morin couldn’t help but sigh. He felt like a commentator from a certain RTS game before he crossed over: “You Zerg people, you feel like you’ve lost money if a dog dies…” Although this loss was not large for a battalion-level unit in a siege battle of this scale—it was, in fact, far lower than his initial estimate… After all, this was the Instruction Assault Battalion’s first large-scale real combat since its formation, and achieving such results and an exchange ratio was already a miracle.

    But casualty numbers are ultimately not cold statistics; behind every name is a living life. Moreover, most of the Instruction Assault Battalion’s soldiers were married, and they had wives and children waiting for them at home… No commander would wish for more casualties among his subordinates.

    “How are the seriously wounded? Have they all received proper treatment?” Morin asked.

    “Everything has been arranged,” Kleist replied. “The Battle Group’s Field Hospital has moved into Liège, and our wounded have received priority treatment. As for the killed soldiers, I have already arranged for their information to be registered. The disbursement of pensions and the sending of letters home will be handled as quickly as possible.”

    Morin nodded, satisfied with Kleist’s arrangements.

    “You must personally oversee this matter and ensure there are absolutely no mistakes,” he urged.

    Just as the two were confirming a series of tedious details regarding the evacuation of the wounded and the registration of the killed, a Dispatch Rider rushed in.

    “Reporting, Sir! General Ludendorff requests your immediate presence. There is an important operational mission to be arranged!”

    An important operational mission? Morin and Kleist exchanged glances. It seemed their brief rest was coming to an end. Getting a mission right after waking up, Morin couldn’t help but click his tongue.

    “Go handle the rest of the matters. I will go see the General.” Morin instructed Kleist, then followed the Dispatch Rider, walking quickly toward the Meuse River Battle Group’s temporary command post.

    This so-called temporary command post was none other than the main building of the Liège Fortress Command Post that he had personally taken out last night.

    “A return to familiar grounds…”

    Walking into the familiar command hall, Morin saw Ludendorff standing in front of a giant map, discussing something intensely with several staff officers. The hall had only been briefly cleaned, and the traces of last night’s fierce fighting, including the bloodstains on the floor, were still clearly visible.

    “Captain Morin, you are here.” Ludendorff saw Morin, immediately stopped the discussion, and beckoned him over.

    “General!” Morin stepped forward and saluted sharply.

    Ludendorff returned the salute, then spoke directly:

    “Captain Morin, the Army Group Command Post has just issued the latest operational order. Effective immediately, the ‘Meuse River Battle Group’ is formally renamed the ‘Ludendorff Battle Group’ and is under my full command.”

    Morin understood internally; it seemed Ludendorff was to be entrusted with a heavy responsibility based on the great achievement of capturing Liège.

    “The location you provided yesterday, our soldiers also found the eight prisoners. The Britannian Major is an important figure, and we have sent him back to Army Group Command.” Ludendorff first mentioned the prisoners, then continued:

    “Next, our Battle Group will cooperate with the main force of the Second Army Group to quickly launch a new offensive.”

    “The main force of the Second Army Group will launch an attack on the Namur Fortress Cluster, but our Battle Group has an even more arduous task.”

    His finger traced an arc on the map, bypassing the sturdy Namur Fortress Cluster, and pointed directly at a city further west.

    “We will bypass Namur and, at maximum speed, directly attack Charleroi!”

    (End of this Chapter)

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