Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The atmosphere in the tent was tense. While some expressed outrage, others remained silent, aware of the kingdom's current predicament.
Paul struck the table with his fist and shouted, "As long as the king hasn't issued an official ceasefire, we will keep fighting!"
The tent fell silent.
"Then, I propose that Sir Schroeder continues as the battlefield commander. Does anyone object?"
The attendees exchanged glances but ultimately remained silent.
The only victory against the orcs in a head-on battle was thanks to your troops, so whatever you say goes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, given that the tactics and weapons of the Northwestern army are relatively novel, I've decided to arrange a drill tomorrow for everyone to observe. This will help prevent friendly fire during actual combat."
Interest piqued among the audience. Many of the troops had retreated here after the Battle of Silver Moon Fortress and hadn't witnessed how the Northwestern army had triumphed over the orcs.
They had only heard accounts from those who had fought alongside Alden's forces: tales of tubular weapons, large and small, spewing deadly flames that hurled metal projectiles to annihilate enemies.
These weapons sounded similar to ballistae and bows but were said to have far greater range and power, creating a deafening noise like thunder and blanketing the battlefield in smoke.
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The next day arrived swiftly.
In the fields before Silver Moon Fortress, cannons roared, smoke billowed, and two regiments of Alden troops advanced in neat formations, moving in time with the beat of drums.
Under flag signals, they practiced various formations—lines, columns, hollow squares—and maneuvers like rotating fire, volleys, bayonet charges, and coordinated artillery and infantry tactics.
The power of the gunpowder weapons amazed the audience. But what left military experts truly in awe was the soldiers' discipline and tactical prowess.
It's easy to maintain order when stationary, but maintaining formation while advancing is far more challenging.
Even more astonishing was their ability to rapidly change formations. It seemed as though each soldier instinctively knew their exact position. Achieving such precision required relentless, day-in-and-day-out training.
For most armies, changing formations during battle was a high-risk maneuver, often resulting in chaos. Officers might lose their men, soldiers might lose sight of their officers, and delays would make allies think something had gone wrong—perfect moments for enemies to strike. That's why most generals avoided adjusting formations mid-battle.
Noticing the solemn expressions on the spectators' faces, Paul smirked slightly. Alden's ability to maneuver on the battlefield far surpassed the standard of this era, and he was proud of it.
In the past, as Paul studied history's great battles, he often found the decisive tactics surprisingly simple.
In the Battle of Bibracte during the Gallic Wars, the Roman army's third line pivoted 90 degrees counterclockwise to face a sudden flanking threat. Similarly, during the Thirty Years' War, Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden quickly repositioned his left wing into a perpendicular line to protect his exposed center.
At the time, Paul had wondered: That's it?
Repositioning troops sounded as easy as dragging and clicking in a Total War game.
It wasn't until this life—personally training and leading troops—that he understood the complexity and discipline required for such maneuvers.
That's why he emphasized discipline so strongly. His soldiers endured rigorous training far beyond the norm of this era—five days of drills a week—and their daily lives were influenced by strict rules about uniforms and barracks order. The results were undeniable.
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"No flesh-and-blood being can withstand such power!" exclaimed Knight Renteria, who had fought alongside Alden's forces. He stared in awe at the cannons firing.
"No matter how thick your armor is, it might as well be butter against these weapons."
"I saw an entire column of orc soldiers obliterated by a single shot."
There was little need for his dramatization. The pitted ground and flying dirt from the cannon blasts already left the audience frowning.
"No wonder the previously obscure Grayman family has risen so suddenly in recent years, even marrying into the royal family," many thought they had found the answer.
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The drill lasted the entire morning. By noon, the observers dispersed, each with their own thoughts. Alden's troops had left a deep impression.
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"Why won't you let me meet Princess Catherine?"
Upon returning to his quarters, Paul was met with his mother Marianna's questioning. Shortly before departure, Marianna had sent her second son, Nathan, away but insisted on accompanying Paul to ensure his safety, claiming she wanted to confirm her son's ability to protect himself.
"How am I supposed to explain your presence to her?" Paul spread his hands helplessly.
"Fine!" Marianna dropped the subject. She wasn't keen on revealing her identity prematurely, especially since Catherine was only Paul's fiancée and their acquaintance was still new.
"I heard you said supplies were limited. Why waste them here?"
Marianna had seen many innovations on this journey, marveling at Paul's creativity and the usefulness of his inventions.
"It's for deterrence!" Paul replied. "We're about to face the orcs. I don't want anyone around me playing games or undermining us. Besides, it also boosts morale."
Marianna nodded in understanding. Even she had initially underestimated Alden's army. However, the march and today's drill had thoroughly changed her opinion.
In Gabela, known for its martial prowess, Marianna had believed she'd seen the strongest armies among humanity. Now, Alden's forces seemed even more impressive.
(End of the Chapter)
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