Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 302:

August 10, Holy Calendar – Four newly formed infantry battalions arrived in Fish Tail Town, along with Paul Grayman, the supreme military commander of Alda. As the war entered its final decisive phase, he did not want to miss the opportunity to claim his share of glory… well, to witness the enemy’s last agonizing moments.

Before Paul could fully rest in Fish Tail Town, he received a battle report from Schroeder at the front line. The Duke’s army, with overwhelming manpower, had initiated an attack. The enemy’s strength was estimated to be nearly ten thousand, and the Alda army had suffered a defeat, now retreating and holding their position in a town called Saint Mir.

Ten thousand troops? A defeat? Paul was almost jumping out of his skin upon reading the report. He was accustomed to the constant victories of the Alda army and found the word ‘defeat’ hard to accept.

Schroeder’s forces, apart from two regular infantry battalions, also included nearly a thousand militiamen and auxiliary troops recruited locally, totaling about 3,000 men. Despite Paul’s confidence in his side’s superior training and equipment, the disparity in troop strength was stark.

Paul replied to Schroeder: “Hold your position and wait for reinforcements. I will set out immediately with the four infantry battalions to join you.”

Thus, the more than two thousand men, barely rested after disembarking, began their hurried march south.

After two days of forced march, Paul led his troops to Saint Mir Town, merging with Schroeder’s forces.

The old knight, somewhat ashamed, said, “I apologize, my Lord. It was my inadequate command that brought shame to the Alda army.”

Despite the defeat, Schroeder’s forces still numbered 2,500 men. Knowing the enemy greatly outnumbered his troops, he had wisely chosen to conserve his forces as much as possible while waiting for Paul’s four infantry battalions.

The true combat strength of Schroeder’s army was the 1,000-plus soldiers from the 2nd and 4th Infantry Battalions and about 1,000 poorly armed but spear-equipped Alda militiamen. The auxiliary forces recruited locally were hardly worth mentioning.

“What’s the specific situation with the enemy forces?” Paul asked, skeptical that Marltz Kent could muster an army of ten thousand trained soldiers, as that would render the battle pointless.

“Based on our observations, the actual number of trained soldiers is between 3,000 and 4,000, with nearly a thousand cavalry, including about 400 regular knights,” Schroeder reported.

“Three to four thousand men?” Paul pondered, comparing the forces.

By these numbers, if only considering the ‘regular army,’ both sides were now almost evenly matched. Paul’s side, including the militia, also totaled nearly four thousand. Alda had the advantage in consistent quality and strict discipline, while the enemy had the advantage of a highly mobile cavalry unit.

As for the remaining miscellaneous troops in the Duke’s army, Paul hardly considered them a threat. After all this time in this world, he knew too well the level of these hastily conscripted cannon fodder. If he let these miscellaneous troops charge, they might fall into chaos first.

Paul inquired about Schroeder’s opinion: “Do you think we can win with our current forces?”

The old knight confidently replied, “If there are no new reinforcements on their side, we definitely can win.”

Schroeder’s confidence was based on the fact that, besides the four infantry battalions, the Count had brought 20 rapid-firing cannons, which would surely give the Duke’s army a hard time.

Paul, patting a few large wooden boxes, said to his chief of staff with a smile, “In addition to enhanced firepower, material incentives are also indispensable.”

…

Two days later, enemy troops appeared south of Saint Mir Town. The Duke’s army, having regrouped, pursued them. The Alda army quickly formed up south of the town, but only two battalions were visible, with the rest of the troops hidden within the town.

“Good, it seems they haven’t replenished their soldiers,” Schroeder noted, observing the enemy with his telescope. After several battles, the enemy forces now numbered just over eight thousand.

…

“Lord Jace, we’ve thoroughly scouted the area. There are no ambushes around the town,” a knight reported, racing to Jace’s side.

Jace’s face showed a mix of emotions as he gazed at the distant Alda army. He wondered why the enemy always seemed to detect their movements first. In previous encounters with Schroeder, the Alda army always seemed well-prepared, facing them with a readiness that suggested an almost uncanny foresight in their scouts.

Could it be, as his father speculated, that Grayman secretly received help from wizards and gained some mysterious power?

Regardless, he resolved to end this troublesome opponent here, reassured by the fact that the enemy still seemed to number the same as when they last retreated.

Jace ordered his officers: “Begin the attack according to our plan.”

Their tactic was to first send a wave of expendable troops to deplete the Alda army’s ammunition, followed closely by spear and bowmen.

Because of the Alda army’s direct-fire muskets, the expendable troops provided good cover for the units behind them until they were either dead or fled. The only significant threat to the following units during the attack was the Alda’s long-range hammer artillery.

After approaching the Alda infantry line, the expendable troops had almost been depleted, and the archers began suppressing fire, followed by the spearman engaging in close combat.

During this process, the cavalry roamed around the enemy, both exerting tremendous psychological pressure and looking for weak points to break through.

Previous battles had proven that this tactic was effective when they had a numerical advantage and the enemy lacked cavalry.

Jace, unsure whether to laugh or cry, realized this was the first time since the war began that they had forced the Alda army to retreat.

…

The roar of cannons and gunfire mixed with the clashing of close combat as the two armies engaged in a fierce battle on the open fields south of Saint Mir Town.

The Duke’s soldiers, motivated by heavy rewards and severe punishment, repeatedly charged the enemy lines. The Alda soldiers, boosted by Paul’s presence and receiving pay several times higher than usual, repelled each attack.

Seeing the ground littered with corpses and wounded, Schroeder signaled to Paul: “It’s about time.”

Paul nodded emphatically, and Schroeder immediately ordered a retreat: “Pull back into the town!”

Taking advantage of the enemy’s hesitation to launch a new attack, the Alda army collectively turned and ran towards Saint Mir Town.

Jace, now aware of Paul’s presence, had received word from a wounded knight who had retreated during the charge. The man responsible for the Kent family’s disgrace was right across from him.

This only strengthened his resolve to deal with this audacious army that had dared to disrupt his rear. Killing or capturing Paul Grayman would pave the way for conquering the entire Northwest Bay.

“The enemy is retreating! They’re running into the town!”

Multiple observers noticed the Alda army’s movement.

“Quick! Gather all the cavalry, follow me for a charge into the town, and let the infantry press on! Jim, lead your men to block the other exits of the town.”

Within a minute, Jace had made his arrangements. It was clear the enemy couldn’t withstand the pressure and was retreating. Except in very rare and specific circumstances, pursuing a retreating enemy was a fundamental military principle.

“Grayman, you won’t escape!”

The thunderous sound of hooves echoed across the plains as a massive cavalry force charged towards Saint Mir Town.

Jace saw some Alda soldiers attempting to pull back their hammers into the town, but as soon as they saw the cavalry charge, they abandoned the hammers and ran into the town. “Haha, these cowards.”

They’re in! They’re in!

Jace spurred his horse, leading his cavalry around a street corner.

Then he saw them – rows of dark, ominous cannon barrels, emanating an endless chill.

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