Chapter 225: Crossing the Somme River

The entire assault unit, in a devastating surge, swiftly crossed the several-hundred-meter-long railway bridge. After clearing the remaining enemies near the South Bank bridgehead, they finally met triumphantly with Morin, who had been waiting there.

“Morin! Are you alright, you rascal!” Ludwig brought his Armored Knight to a halt, his voice booming through the loudspeaker.

“Still alive!” Morin wiped the soot from his face and grinned. “I was just nearly roasted by a Fireball Spell.”

“Battalion Commander!” Klaus rushed up with his men, his face etched with lingering fear. “You truly scared us to death just now! Please don’t charge in like that again!”

“It was a minor issue. Stop talking nonsense; hurry! Establish a position! The enemy is about to counterattack!” Morin pointed toward the South City and commanded loudly.

The soldiers immediately sprang into action, using the ruins and destroyed barricades at the bridgehead to quickly establish a semi-circular defense line facing the South City.

Morin seized the moment to quickly search the bodies of the two Highland Mages.

“Let me see what treasures you brought…” He unceremoniously stripped the two of every valuable item they carried, including unused Magic Scrolls, several notebooks that looked like spell journals, and various fragmented Magical Materials and equipment, stuffing them all into his backpack. Since I risked my life to get these spoils, I get to use them first. At worst, I can hand over the spell journals after I’ve consumed the experience points.

Having done all this, he found Klaus again. “Klaus, immediately take a few men and search for a boat nearby! Then, go along the bridge piers and dismantle the Magic Crystal Bombs the Britannians placed there!” Morin ordered seriously.

He knew that while he held the detonator, it did not mean the bridge was entirely safe. Who knew if the enemy had a backup means of detonation? Only by physically dismantling the bombs could he truly rest easy. He also surmised that the Highland Mages wouldn’t engage in the manual labor of planting the explosives themselves, likely leaving it to ordinary engineers. If ordinary engineers installed them then his soldiers could-in theory- dismantle it.

“Yes, Battalion Commander!” Klaus acknowledged the order, immediately summoning two squads of soldiers to search for boats along the riverbank.

Just as the Saxons were busy consolidating the bridgehead, Master Albert who had just completed his transfer with the Expeditionary Force Command Post to South Amiens, felt a sudden shift in his magical senses. He looked down at the bracelet-like magical item on his wrist; the two light points representing the Mage Apprentices had been completely extinguished.

“What happened?!” Master Albert’s heart sank. A grim premonition washed over him. He immediately tried to contact the two apprentices guarding the railway bridge via the bracelet, but all he received was silence.

“Albert, did something happen at the railway bridge?” Another Seventh-Circle Transmutation Mage, Angus, who noticed the change in Albert’s expression asked.

“Carter and Nilsson’s communication is cut off,” Master Albert’s voice was deeply ominous. “I suspect… they may have met with misfortune.”

He closed his eyes, his immense mental power instantly expanding, attempting to sense the location of the Magic Crystal Detonation Device he had placed a tracking mark on. The next second, he violently opened his eyes, a look of shock and fury flashing in them.

“The detonator… is still at the bridgehead! But it seems someone has already taken possession of it! And I sense an unfamiliar Spellcaster’s aura near it!” Master Albert immediately reported this alarming news to Field Marshal John French, Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force.

Chaos erupted in the command post. “What? The railway bridge has fallen?!”

“And the Mages responsible for demolishing the bridge have been killed?!”

Field Marshal John French’s face instantly turned pale. He knew what losing the railway bridge meant.

“Master Albert!” he roared at the Highland Mage: “You must retrieve the railway bridge at all costs! If you cannot retrieve it, you must destroy it!”

“Understood!” Master Albert nodded, not saying anything more. He turned, looking at the Seventh-Circle Transmutation Mage behind him. “Assemble the unit! Summon all nearby Armored Knights! Follow me!” His voice was filled with unconcealed murderous intent. “I will personally go and crush those damned Saxon barbarians into pieces!”

With two apprentices killed and a strategic position lost, this was a severe blow to the pride of the entire Highland Mage Corps.

Soon, an elite counterattack unit assembled in the South City center plaza. Four ‘St. George III’ Armored Knights marked with the Order of the Garter crest, and twelve auxiliary Knight Squires. Behind them, nearly a battalion of Britannian infantry. Master Albert and Archmage Angus walked in the center of the formation, escorted by several Knight Squires and heavily armed soldiers.

“Advance!” Master Albert gave the command without further words. He waved his white oak staff, and the large unit immediately began advancing toward the railway bridge.

Meanwhile, at the South Bank bridgehead of the railway bridge. As more Saxon soldiers poured across the vital bridge into South Amiens, the intensity of the fighting rapidly escalated. The narrow streets and ruined buildings became the scene of a life-or-death struggle between the two sides. Gunfire, explosions, and the screams of the dying enveloped the war-torn city, seemingly never to dissipate.

The Instruction Assault Battalion’s other two companies, which had been ordered to attack in different directions, also crossed the railway bridge under the leadership of Wolff and Jonas and linked up with Morin. Ludwig’s four remaining Armored Knights also followed them across.

“Battalion Commander, what is our next move?” everyone asked.

“Don’t rush.” Morin looked at the rapidly changing positions on the system map. Noticing a sizable enemy unit quickly moving toward them, his expression grew serious. “A tough nut is likely coming.”

He was about to issue new deployment orders when a torrent of flames suddenly erupted from a street corner leading deep into the South City! The fire, seemingly alive, instantly swept across the entire street. The platoon of Saxon soldiers who had just rushed into that street and attempting to push deeper, were completely engulfed by the searing flames before they could even scream. Only a few unlucky men with their bodies still burning, rushed out of the inferno like madmen and desperately leaping into the cold Somme River to extinguish the flames.

“Magic! It’s Britannian Spellcasters!” Morin’s soldiers were stunned.

“Is that [Burning Hands]?” Morin tried to identify the spell, but his heart sank when he saw the casualties it inflicted. If it was [Burning Hands], the caster’s level must be extremely high!

The flames subsided, leaving behind only a scorched street and twisted charred human shapes. Immediately after, the sound of heavy footsteps rang out. Four massive Order of the Garter Armored Knights, the ‘St. George III’ model while surrounded by Knight Squires and a large number of infantry slowly emerged from the street corner, entering everyone’s view. Behind the four Armored Knights, two figures in dark Mage Robes stood out prominently.

It was Master Albert and Archmage Angus.

“This is bad. It really is their high-level Mages…” Morin’s scalp tingled as he looked at the two crimson, high-risk markers labeled ‘Seventh-Circle Mage’ on the system map. He knew the trouble was about to escalate significantly. While four ‘St. George III’ Armored Knights might not pose an insurmountable threat to the Teutonic Knights now, the situation was entirely different with two Seventh-Circle Mages added to the mix.

“Ludwig! Be careful! There are two High-level Mages opposite us!” Morin yelled hoarsely, trying to warn Ludwig.

But Ludwig’s eyes were already bloodshot. Seeing his comrades burned into cinders and the Order of the Garter Knights across the street, his rage instantly ignited. Ludwig roared, ignoring Morin’s warning, and charged at the enemy with his six Armored Knights.

“Don’t go! Ludwig!” Morin jumped up and down anxiously, but it was too late. The street along the river was narrow, barely wide enough for two Armored Knights to charge side-by-side. The six Saxon ‘Siegfried I’ Armored Knights and the four Britannian ‘St. George III’ Armored Knights violently collided like two opposing steel torrents.

“Clang!”

The massive sound of metal on metal made their eardrums ache. Everyone’s attention was drawn to this clash of Armored Knights in the narrow street.

Ludwig was at the forefront. He was now adept at using the ‘Armor-Piercing Lance.’ He deliberately exposed a gap, luring the pilot of the St. George III in front of him to swing his massive battleaxe. Just as the battleaxe was about to fall, the ‘Armor-Piercing Lance’ in Ludwig’s hand shot out like a viper, striking the enemy cockpit from an extremely precise, difficult angle. The pilot of the Order of the Garter Knight was clearly an experienced veteran, reacting instantly and quickly positioning his huge shield in front of him.

Ludwig knew from the Teutonic Knights’ internal testing that the penetrating power of the molten metal jet from the Armor-Piercing Round would be significantly reduced after penetrating the first layer of armor. Blocking with a shield was indeed the best defense.

But Ludwig was counting on this opportunity!

(End of this Chapter)