Chapter 195: Belated Arrival

A certain Cavalry Officer once wrote: “Only those who have never truly participated in a cavalry charge speak of two opposing cavalry units or lines crashing into each other and fighting until one is annihilated.”

And the fact was exactly so. In this world, genuine head-on collision between two cavalry forces rarely occurred in countless duels. If the morale of both sides was equal, the cavalry would pass through the opposing formation and emerge on the other side.

But when the morale of the two sides was unequal, the moment two cavalry forces launched a charge toward each other, the victory was already decided when they spurred their horses.

At the final distance of less than fifty meters, the instinct for survival ultimately triumphed over all else. The first to lose their courage were the Gallic Cavalry, who had already suffered a severe blow. They instinctively wheeled their horses around and scattered toward the flanks of the battlefield. A true, large-scale cavalry close-quarters combat failed to even take place.

The moment the Saxon Imperial Guards Cuirassiers charged down the gentle slope, most of the Heavy Machine Gun positions and the Dragoons who were still firing ceased their shooting. This was not only due to concerns about friendly fire but also because it was the first time most of them had witnessed a cavalry charge of this magnitude in actual combat.

In this battle, the charging formations of the cavalry never remained as straight as a moving stone wall, as they did in training. The individual desire of brave cavalrymen to close with the enemy actually somewhat reduced the cohesion and integrity of the formation. The most skilled Imperial Guards Cuirassiers attempted to catch up to the officers riding at the front, causing the charging lines to quickly morph into wedge formations.

When these wedge formations brutally slammed into the Gallic Cavalry’s shattered ranks, they instantly cut down the adjacent enemy cavalry—in the scenario of countering enemy Cuirassiers, everyone was trained to aim for areas not protected by the armor.

Since the Gallic Cavalry had already lost the courage to engage the Saxons, the melee between cavalry and cavalry did not last long and quickly transitioned to the final and most lethal phase of cavalry combat: the pursuit, which causes the highest number of casualties.

The seasoned Imperial Guards Cuirassiers and the rapidly following Dragoons were led by their officers to approach the fleeing Gallic Cavalry from the left side. In this situation, the Gallic Cavalry, who typically used their right hand for their sabers and lances, found it incredibly difficult to defend against the Saxon attack. Gallic Cavalrymen continually fell from their horses with wails, and most tried to curl up the moment they hit the ground, but the majority still suffered the trampling of hooves.

More and more unmanned warhorses appeared on the battlefield. These immediately caught the attention of some Hussars and Dragoons. They quickly detached a small portion of the cavalry to pursue these warhorses, hoping to claim these fine mounts from the Gallic main cavalry force as their spoils of war.

Meanwhile, on the right flank of the battlefield. The Saxon Lancers, who had previously been forced back by the Gallic Machine Gun positions, finally completed their wide flanking maneuver. Guided by Hussar scouts, they bypassed the main battlefield and approached their final objective from a different direction—the Gallic Third Cavalry Division’s Horse Artillery Battalion position!

The twelve 75mm Magic Guided Cannons, which had been a constant source of dread for General Hoeppner, now looked so vulnerable and tempting in their eyes. An entire Imperial Guards Lancer Regiment, nearly a thousand Lancers, controlled their warhorses at a trot, rapidly closing in on the Magic Guided Artillery position.

Soon, the Gallic artillerymen and the Dragoons and infantry protecting them spotted the enemy suddenly approaching from another direction.

“Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Saxon Cavalry!”

The artillery position descended into chaos. The artillerymen frantically tried to swing the cannons around. Although the 75mm Magic Guided Cannons were relatively light due to Enchantment augmentation, that was only in comparison to other heavy field artillery. The process of turning the barrels and adjusting the angles was not quick enough to be completed.

During this time, the Saxon Lancers shifted from a trot to a faster canter, and the distance between the two sides rapidly closed. The Dragoons and infantry assigned to guard the Magic Guided Artillery position, under the command of their officers, formed a skirmish line and raised their rifles, shooting wildly at the approaching torrent of cavalry. But due to poor Machine Gun deployment, their current firepower was simply inadequate against a formed cavalry charge.

And it was already too late.

“Gentlemen!” The Lancer Regimental Commander drew his saber, pointing it at the blazing artillery position in the distance, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. “For the Emperor!” He fiercely swung his saber forward. “Charge!”

The entire Imperial Guards Lancer Regiment, nearly a thousand Lancers, roared in unison. “For the Emperor!” They slammed their heels into their horses’ flanks, controlling their mounts to gallop. The first rank of Lancers lowered their lances, their tips aimed straight ahead.

Led by their officers, they formed dense waves of charge, launching a devastating assault on the completely unprepared artillery position. The warhorses galloped, and the ground trembled. In just a few breaths, the Lancers, like a storm sweeping away leaves, easily broke through the hastily formed Dragoon and infantry defense—or rather, the loose defense broke before the charge even made contact.

The sharp, long lances precisely pierced the chests of one Gallic artilleryman and infantryman after another. The warhorses’ iron hooves mercilessly trampled the wounded on the ground. A highly efficient slaughter unfolded at the artillery position. The Gallic artillerymen were completely unable to organize any effective resistance. Their pistols and carbines were like children’s toys against the Lancers brandishing sabers and lances.

In just a few minutes, the entire artillery position was utterly overrun. The twelve 75mm Magic Guided Cannons that General Hoeppner had so dreaded fell into Saxon hands, virtually intact.

The Lancer Regimental Commander, who led the assault, looked at the still-hot cannons and laughed excitedly. He knew they had won this battle. And it was a glorious victory that would be recorded in history! He immediately ordered a portion of his soldiers to remain and guard the precious trophies while clearing the remaining resistance. Then, he led the main force to turn their horses around.

He was preparing to deliver the final blow to the Gallic remnants still fighting stubbornly on the main battlefield.

When the banners of the Lancer Regiment appeared behind the remnants of the Gallic Third Cavalry Division. All the Gallic soldiers who were still resisting finally broke. They were caught between pursuing forces ahead, a blocking force behind, and continuously harassing Hussars on the flanks. They had reached a dead end, with no possibility of turning the tables.

“Surrender! We surrender!”

An anonymous voice first dropped his weapon and raised his hands. This action quickly spread like a contagion through the remaining Gallic soldiers. More and more men chose to surrender.

A cavalry battle royal, which had been expected to be extremely bloody, concluded in an unexpected manner in less than two hours.

As the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division declared the end of this duel between true warriors with a sweeping victory, a massive shadow, accompanied by the ‘buzzing’ of engines, covered the skies above Charleroi.

The Zeppelin Armored Airship L29, the aerial War Behemoth that could cruise at 120 kilometers per hour, had arrived at the battlefield even earlier than the convoy dispatched from the Ludendorff Battle Group.

“Buzz—Buzz—Buzz—”

The roar of the gigantic engine grew from distant to near. As the airship’s oppressive silhouette pierced the clouds and appeared over the city, an exciting and majestic melody poured down from the airship’s mounted loudspeakers.

It was the classic Saxon Empire tune—Ride of the Valkyries.

A moment of silence passed over the Instruction Assault Battalion’s positions, followed by earth-shattering cheers.

“It’s our Armored Airship! Our Armored Airship is here!”

“Long live the Air Force!”

Soldiers poked their heads out from cover and buildings, waving their arms, jumping and cheering excitedly. Many even began tapping the rhythm of the exhilarating tune on the sandbags and walls beside them, excitedly humming the ‘clang, clang, clang, clang’ beat.

In stark contrast, the Gallic Ninth Division soldiers, who controlled the perimeter outside South Charleroi, stared blankly at the massive object in the sky, their faces filled with confusion and terror. The appearance of the Armored Airship was so sudden that they were momentarily unsure how to react.

Soon, a call, mixed with static, rang out over the Instruction Assault Battalion’s bulky radio set. This was the first time this heavy machine, carried by the Instruction Assault Battalion, had been truly useful in the battles of the past few days.

“Calling ground forces, this is the Imperial Air Force Zeppelin Armored Airship L29. Respond if you hear us!”

Morin snatched the microphone. Hearing the Captain’s calm, strong voice felt like hearing a loved one.

“This is the Instruction Assault Battalion! We are in the core area of South Charleroi!” As he spoke, he quickly confirmed the precise location of his troops on the system map and relayed the coordinates to the airship. The Armored Airship voluntarily offered to provide aerial fire support for the Instruction Assault Battalion.

Morin had no reason to refuse such a request.

“We will use red flares to mark the enemy areas for you! Please be mindful of friendly locations to avoid friendly fire!”

“Received! Awaiting your signal!”

Morin’s order was immediately passed to the 1st Company position. Several instructed soldiers quickly fired several red flares from the front line toward the Gallic-controlled urban area in the distance. The flares trailed long tails, arcing conspicuously through the air before landing in a cluster of buildings.

The L29 Armored Airship immediately adjusted its position based on the flare impact points. On the hull, the four massive Twin-Barreled Turrets—two in the front and two in the rear—slowly rotated their muzzles.

“Target area confirmed! High-explosive shells loaded!”

“Fire!”

Following the Armored Airship Captain’s command, the eight 203mm caliber giant cannons roared simultaneously. The shells tore through the air, emitting a sharp shriek, accurately slamming into the area marked by the flares.

“Boom—! Rumble—!”

Violent explosions merged into one continuous sound. The ground shook. The sheer power of these large-caliber guns was clearly much greater than the Gallic 75mm Magic Guided Cannons. The brick-and-stone buildings were as fragile as paper against the 203mm high-explosive shells, being flattened in swathes.

In the face of this destructive attack, accuracy was irrelevant. The blast wave and shrapnel from the large-caliber high-explosive shells would equally cut down every living soul within the blast radius.

After just four salvos, the psychological defense of the Gallic Ninth Division soldiers, who were still stubbornly holding the line in front of the 1st Company’s position, was completely destroyed. Survivors screamed and cried, rushing out from the ruins and cover, frantically fleeing toward the outskirts of the city. No interception teams were sent to stop them, because the interception teams, too, retreated without looking back under the attack of the Armored Airship. Everyone just wanted to escape this place shrouded by the shadow of death as quickly as possible.

However, as their panic-stricken figures appeared in the urban ruins, the MG08 Machine Gun Turrets distributed across the Armored Airship’s gondolas began strafing the ground.

“Da-da-da-da-da!”

Dense bullet rain poured down from the sky, tracing lines of death on the ground, pursuing the fleeing figures. Gallic soldiers were continuously hit by bullets, screaming as they fell into pools of blood. If the Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers had launched a ground assault, these Gallic soldiers might still have resisted under the coercion of their officers. But the attack from the sky was utterly illogical. With the weapons the infantry carried, returning fire was impossible. This feeling of helplessness was more despairing than the gunfire from the front.

Following this, red flares also rose from the 2nd Company and 3rd Company positions on the city’s east and west flanks. The L29 Armored Airship slowly adjusted its hull in the air, turning its muzzles under the command of the Fire Control Officer, and poured the same devastating firepower onto those two directions.

Morin climbed onto the roof of a building near the temporary Battalion Headquarters, personally witnessing the terrifying might of this War Behemoth. The colossal airship hung over the city, like a dragon from mythology descending to unleash divine punishment, using pure violence to utterly crush the Gallic Ninth Division’s remaining morale and will to resist.

Simultaneously, the Gallic Eleventh Division, which had been approaching the flanks of the Ninth Division to provide support, immediately halted its command to advance into South Charleroi. After witnessing the airship’s destructive bombardment, the Eleventh Division’s headquarters unhesitatingly changed its mission from ‘reinforcement and attack’ to ‘covering the Ninth Division’s retreat.’

Although Large Anti-Air Magic Guided Devices that could threaten Armored Airships had appeared in the Grand Duchy of Flanders’ fortresses, the concept of mobile anti-air defense clearly did not yet exist in this world. Those cumbersome Large Anti-Air Magic Guided Devices could not keep up with the advancing infantry. For now, the Gallic Fifth Army Group, whose Spellcasters had been mostly transferred out, had virtually no countermeasure against this steel behemoth rampaging across the sky.

(End of this Chapter)

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