Chapter 194: The Heavy Machine Gun, A Great Invention

The fall of the Namur Fortress Cluster meant that the Second Army Group could finally resume its advance. Although Morin did not expect this massive force to arrive at the speed of light, there was at least a glimmer of hope. Moreover, the convoy he had dispatched was now returning from the ‘Ludendorff Battle Group,’ and its numbers had even increased by over a hundred vehicles compared to when it set out.

“Don’t tell me those two are only realizing this now.”

To be honest, Morin had already decided how he would hide behind the Crown Prince and throw his boot in the faces of Ludendorff and von Bulow. But that would have to wait until after this campaign. He believed that once reinforcements arrived, the Instruction Assault Battalion would also get a period of rest.

Even a mule that grinds grain needs rest!

On the Charleroi front, since the Gallic Ninth Infantry Division seemed to have temporarily given up on the idea of continuing the assault, the Instruction Assault Battalion also refrained from launching a reckless counterattack. Thus, this ‘center of the vortex’ remained quiet until the afternoon.

Although the forward report indicated that the Gauls appeared to be collecting the dead, the alert soldiers in each company did not open fire, merely observing the Gauls’ actions in silence.

Of course, the frontline soldiers maintained combat readiness, with their sights aimed down the streets and their index fingers resting on the trigger guards.

In this situation, Morin remained in the temporary Battalion Headquarters, using the system map to watch the rare large-scale cavalry civil war unfolding in the distance.

On the other side, General Ernst had largely grasped the Gallic fire deployment and troop distribution based on the intelligence relayed from the front line.

He looked again at the Dragoon skirmish line on his front. Under the suppression of the enemy’s superior artillery fire, casualties were mounting, and there were signs of withdrawal.

“General, the Gaul’s artillery fire is too fierce. Our Dragoons may have to retreat sooner than expected…”

The Chief of Staff also spoke with a hint of tension.

But a smile of ‘everything is under control’ appeared on General Ernst’s face. In his view, the fish were starting to bite the hook.

“Order the central Dragoon unit to retreat under alternating cover toward the rear position.”

He calmly lowered his binoculars and began issuing orders:

“Just as previously instructed, maintain an orderly retreat that looks chaotic, giving the Gauls the illusion that we are being defeated.”

“Yes!” The Dispatch Rider immediately acknowledged the order and departed.

Soon, the Saxon Dragoon skirmish line on the front of the slope began to loosen.

The soldiers returned fire while slowly retreating backward.

This sight, seen by General de Moreau who was observing from the rear, was nothing less than the sound of the victory bugle.

“Ha! They can’t hold any longer! The Saxons are about to be routed!” he shouted excitedly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

In his view, this was a heaven-sent opportunity to launch a general assault and crush the enemy in one fell swoop!

“The time has come for the final blow!”

He drew his saber, fiercely waved it forward, and roared at the top of his lungs:

“Dragoon Regiment! Cuirassier Regiment! All-out charge! Crush them!”

The bugle of victory seemed to be blowing right beside his ear.

General de Moreau looked at the ‘retreating’ Saxon line ahead, feeling his entire body’s blood boiling.

He could almost see the glorious sight of the heroic Gallic Cavalry shattering the enemy line and trampling the Saxon colors underfoot.

“Charge! For the glory of Gaul! Charge!”

His roar, relayed through layers of Dispatch Riders and officers, quickly spread across the entire Gallic Cavalry line.

“Whoo—Whoo—”

The buglers, wearing distinctive red plumes in their helmets, sounded loud and sharp charge calls that reverberated across the entire plain.

The Dragoons who had been exchanging fire quickly took the reins from their comrades and mounted their horses, rapidly completing a change in formation.

In that instant, General Hoeppner also had to admit that the Gauls’ cavalry training standards were indeed the peak in Europa.

“Charge!”

“Kill those Saxon barbarians!”

Thousands of Gallic Dragoons and Cuirassiers simultaneously let out a thunderous roar.

Despite this, they still maintained their composure and did not launch a full charge immediately.

Officers held back the leading Gallic Dragoons. They formed dense lines and closed the distance at a ‘canter,’ controlling the entire formation to prevent it from dissolving into chaos during the charge.

Behind them were the three Cuirassier Squadrons, serving as the decisive force.

They maintained a speed slightly slower than the Dragoons, conserving their strength, preparing to deliver the fatal blow at the most crucial moment.

The entire charging column, viewed from above, was like a massive, suddenly rising tide, sweeping toward the Saxon Cavalry line.

The Saxon Dragoons who were in ‘retreat’ showed signs of panic as they saw the continuous line of cavalry thundering toward them.

In that instant, it was hard to tell if they were genuinely afraid.

“Quick! Retreat quickly! The enemy is charging!”

They seemed truly terrified. Their speed of retreat accelerated, and their formation became increasingly disorganized, focused only on escaping to the rear.

All of this was clearly observed by General de Moreau.

“We’ve won! We are absolutely victorious!” He excitedly waved his fists. “The Saxon cowards are completely vulnerable against the great Gallic Cavalry!”

When the distance between the leading Dragoons and the Saxons closed to about 200 paces, the commanding officer stood in his stirrups, simultaneously pointing his saber forward and issuing the order to ‘Charge.’

The Dragoons also stood in their stirrups, simultaneously lowered their lances, and immediately brought their mounts to a ‘gallop.’

This is the fastest gait for a warhorse, with an average speed of about 40-48 kilometers per hour.

The ground began to shake violently. The thunderous sound of thousands of hooves simultaneously striking the ground was loud enough to strike fear into the heart of any faint-hearted man.

And the remaining distance of slightly over a hundred meters was just a matter of a dozen seconds for the full-speed charging cavalry.

The Dragoons in the front row could even clearly see the expressions of terror on the faces of the fleeing Saxon soldiers.

Victory seemed within reach.

However, just as the very front of the Gallic Cavalry charging column was about to step onto the gentle slope.

The unexpected happened.

The Saxon Dragoons who had previously been in ‘frantic retreat,’ suddenly halted their backward movement as if receiving a command the moment they reached the crest of the gentle slope.

They quickly reformed, creating a dense three-rank line formation. Rifles, which had fixed bayonets at some unknown point, were aimed once more at the charging Gallic Cavalry.

Their movements were calm and swift, without the slightest panic, a stark contrast to their ‘routed’ appearance just moments before.

General de Moreau, observing this scene from a distance, was momentarily gripped by panic. An ominous premonition surged into his mind.

“Something’s wrong… this isn’t right!” he muttered to himself.

But it was too late; the charging torrent could no longer be stopped.

He could only hope that his warriors could use absolute momentum to crush this final resistance.

Yet he did not know that this seemingly fragile defense line was not the Saxons’ last stand at all, but the entrance to a trap.

At the Machine Gun positions deployed by the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division, twenty-four pieces of canvas used for camouflage were simultaneously ripped away.

What was revealed beneath the canvas were rows of cold, menacing muzzles.

As the vanguard of the Gallic Cavalry crossed the ‘line of death’ demarcated by the machine gun positions, the gunfire erupted.

“Da-da-da-da-da-da-da——!”

Twenty-four MG08 Heavy Machine Guns spat out lethal flames simultaneously from the front and both flanks of the gentle slope!

The dull, continuous roar of gunfire merged into one sound, completely drowning out all other noise on the battlefield.

Dense bullets formed lethal, intersecting fields of fire from three directions—the front and both flanks—savagely lashing out at the Gallic Cavalry column that was still charging at full speed!

A catastrophe targeting the Gallic Cavalry had arrived.

The Gallic Dragoons at the forefront were struck by this sudden storm of steel before they even realized what was happening.

A Gallic Cavalry officer was waving his saber, shouting ‘For Gaul,’ his handsome face still showing the fervor of victory.

The next second, a burst of bullets swept him and his warhorse from the flank.

The torsos of both man and horse were instantly riddled with several horrific wounds. His body fell to the ground, immediately swallowed by the pounding hooves.

The soldiers around this officer met the same fate.

Bullets mowed down the charging cavalry in rows, like grass being cut.

The wailing of the warhorses and the screams of the soldiers were drowned out by the terrifying roar of the Heavy Machine Guns.

Men and horses were thrown! Flesh and blood flew!

The charging column, which had an unstoppable momentum, instantly became sparse and chaotic after entering the ‘V’ of death’ formed by the crossfire.

The cavalry seemed to have hit an invisible wall. The leading wave was instantly pulverized, while the subsequent waves, driven by inertia, continued to surge forward, only to be similarly torn to shreds.

The Cuirassiers, wearing their Enchanted Cuirasses, were in no better condition.

Because, after receiving the intelligence provided by Morin, all the Machine Gun positions had adjusted their targets to the warhorses beneath the cavalrymen.

For Heavy Machine Guns fixed on tripods, once this height was set, the deviation would be minimal.

Consequently, one Cuirassier watched helplessly as his warhorse was struck in the chest and forelegs by bullets, plunging forward with a desperate neigh.

He himself was thrown from the saddle by the immense inertia, rolling several times on the ground before stopping.

He endured the intense pain across his body, struggling to get up, but a burst of bullets, flying in from an unseen location, instantly shattered his head.

General de Moreau, watching from the rear, was utterly dumbfounded.

He stared blankly at the battlefield ahead, which had instantly become a slaughterhouse. The euphoria and arrogance on his face were entirely replaced by boundless terror and despair.

“It’s Heavy Machine Guns… how does the cavalry have so many Heavy Machine Guns…” His lips trembled, and he spoke incoherently.

He never imagined that the Saxons would lay such a wicked, despicable trap in a cavalry duel!

It was one thing for the cowards in Charleroi City to do this, but the Saxon cavalry doing the same?

This was fundamentally not the duel that should take place between cavalry forces!

The momentum of the Gallic Cavalry charge, after incurring incalculable and devastating losses, finally came to a complete stop less than twenty meters from the Saxon lines.

The surviving cavalrymen were terrified into submission by the hellish scene before them.

They reined in their horses, spinning in panic, or desperately turned their mounts around, trying to flee the killing zone.

These dense and slow-moving targets made the surrounding Saxon Heavy Machine Gunners only lament that the rate of fire of their MG08 was insufficient and reloading was too slow…

On the other side, General Ernst watched the scene, a cold light flashing in his eyes.

He knew that this was the moment of decisive victory.

“Order! Imperial Guards Cuirassiers! Launch a counter-charge against the enemy!”

Behind the Saxon central position, the three Imperial Guards Cuirassier Squadrons, which had been conserving their energy, finally moved.

They formed three perfectly neat and dense lines, launching a lethal counter-charge from the flank of the gentle slope’s crest, moving diagonally toward the chaotic Gallic Cavalry below!

The armor technology used on the Saxon Imperial Guards Cuirassiers was different from the Gauls’.

These Cuirasses utilized the same Magic Guided Technology as the ‘Plate Armor Supermen’ of the General’s Guard, and the wearers themselves had undergone Magic Affinity modification.

Therefore, their protective power was far superior to the Gallic Cuirasses.

Although this also led to the issue of insufficient production capacity and thus rarity…

There was no doubt that they were the most elite and powerful heavy cavalry in the entire Saxon Army.

“For the Empire! For the Emperor!”

Accompanied by earth-shattering shouts, this refreshed torrent of iron armor began to slowly accelerate.

Their target was the Gallic Cavalry ahead, which had lost all momentum, whose formation was scattered, and whose morale had collapsed.

Seeing their own Cuirassiers launch the counter-charge, the Saxon Dragoons, who had just been pouring out fire with rifles and machine guns, erupted in thunderous cheers.

A portion of the rear Dragoons quickly ceased fire and began methodically remounting their horses.

They prepared to follow behind the Cuirassiers to exploit the victory and pursue the remnants of the enemy.

The rhythm of the entire battlefield was completely and firmly controlled by General Ernst.

And for the Gallic Cavalry, who were already teetering on the edge of chaos and collapse, the counter-charge launched by the Saxon Imperial Guards Cuirassiers was the final straw.

They had suffered a double blow, both psychological and physical, in the span of just a few minutes.

First, they were dazed and suffered heavy casualties from the despicable, dense hail of bullets.

Then, before they could recover from the shock and terror, an even more formidable force of enemy heavy cavalry charged in from the flank.

“It’s over… we are finished.”

A surviving Gallic Dragoon watched the approaching torrent of iron armor, gleaming with a golden luster, his eyes filled with despair.

His comrades around him wore similar expressions.

The courage of these Gallic Cavalry had been completely spent in the one-sided massacre just now, and their morale had plummeted to rock bottom.