Chapter 286: The Battle of Helmgarde (Mid)
The Imperial army hastily formed ranks, with many soldiers not yet prepared for combat.
Elector Umberto of Tuscany realized in the chaos that their previously planned strategy had failed—Casvan's army had descended from the mountain earlier than expected!
"Advance! Bretonnian knights! Tear the enemy asunder! For the lady!" Casvan stood amidst his forces, roaring out commands.
The knights blew their horns, and their steeds kicked into motion. The ranger knights formed up with their lances, ready to charge the Imperial forces, while serf archers drew their short bows, sending volleys of flaming and regular arrows raining down on the Imperial troops.
Many Imperial swordsmen and pikemen were struck by the arrows, with dozens falling immediately.
Caught off-guard by the sudden attack, the Imperial troops were thrown into disarray, shoving each other, scrambling to find their formations, and utterly unprepared for the Bretonnian knights' assault.
Seeing the morale of the Imperial troops wavering, Casvan wore a satisfied expression.
This was exactly what he needed.
After the military council, the battle-hardened duke had quickly realized that the Imperial forces would not hold their ground but would instead take the initiative to attack, as Emperor Karl-Franz needed them to.
And if the standoff lasted, it would be detrimental for the emperor; he needed to attack proactively, or Casvan's long-traveling army would have ample time to rest and prepare.
Casvan quickly deduced that the Empire would launch a preemptive strike at dawn. Hence, the duke had the Lake Prophet among his forces cast a wide-reaching divine spell—Mist of the Goddess—using the fog as cover, the army advanced into battle, lying in wait for the still-crossing Imperial troops.
The knights quickly broke through the first line of the Imperial formation. The weaker units of crossbowmen and pikemen were overwhelmed before they could react, and the first line was swiftly broken by the charging Bretonnian ranger knights wielding their lances.
"Oh no!"
"Help!"
"Screams of agony filled the air as the first line of Imperial infantry and crossbowmen collapsed under the knights' charge. If the ranger knights pursued now, it would turn into a slaughter.
However, following the duke's earlier orders, the ranger knights did not chase down the fleeing troops but instead charged towards the Imperial army's second line.
According to Casvan's plan, the knights should seize this opportunity to strike directly at the center. If they could scatter the Imperial lines, victory would be theirs.
However, the situation on the battlefield disappointed Casvan. Although the Imperial forces were somewhat chaotic, Elector Umberto's command capabilities were formidable. Upon realizing the situation, the great elector immediately ordered a reformation and counterattack.
Rick's and Avi's provinces, among the Empire's richest, fielded troops directly loyal to the emperor and the elector. After a moment of shock, the elite greatswordsmen and Golden Fleece knights commanded the remaining troops to form several lines of defense.
Under the elector's call, the well-trained Imperial troops quickly reformed. Musketeers lined up in three ranks, with crossbowmen and archers forming a line, launching an assault on the oncoming Bretonnian forces.
"Bang, bang, bang!" A line of musketeers fired in unison, the volley of lead bullets creating a barrage that immediately felled dozens of the leading knights. The spent musketeers quickly reloaded and retreated, allowing the next line to step up.
But this did little to deter the Bretonnian knights. The ranger knights, shouting the names of their lake fairies, charged across the battlefield, sweeping everything before them, completely overwhelming the first line of the Imperial formation.
"Kill! The lady grants us strength and protection!" The remaining serf infantry, led by sergeants, rushed into the Imperial lines, and a brutal melee ensued. Although the Bretonnian serf infantry were not as well-trained as the Imperial troops, the broken formations meant the Imperials were dragged into close-quarters combat.
"Lady protect me!" A serf infantryman thrust his spear into the chest of an Imperial pikeman, but his arm was immediately severed by a neighboring Imperial swordsman.
"Die, mudbloods from across the mountain!" An Imperial officer tried desperately to rally his troops, but soon found himself surrounded by a tide of serf infantry.
Several spears pierced his torso and abdomen before a knight's lance impaled him from behind.
The first line of the Imperial formation began to collapse.
Halberdiers formed a dense line, their sharp halberds arrayed in several rows. Though the Bretonnian ranger knights charged again into the second line, their strength was waning, and a barrage of arrows and musket fire from the Imperial forces began to take its toll, causing many knights to fall from their mounts.
Two hundred pistoliers and outriders, the elite of the Imperial cavalry, emerged from the flanks of the Imperial formation. These troops, composed of students from the Nuln Gunnery School and noble scions, were highly trained and motivated, with every noble youth aspiring to earn recognition and eventually become a full knight through military service.
The outriders, known as the Empire's Dragoon Riders, led the pistoliers. They rode their steeds, sporting flamboyant mustaches and clad in colorful attire with fashionable hats, emerging from the rear of the Imperial lines.
This was their only chance, as the pistoliers would not have the opportunity to reload in front of the Bretonnian knights. Therefore, as the pistoliers drew near the Bretonnian forces, the commanding outrider shouted, "Ready! Fire!"
"Fire!" The groups of pistoliers and outriders raised their handguns, and under the dim light of early dawn, a thunderous volley echoed across the battlefield.
"Bang, bang!" Although they could only fire once, this volley had a devastating effect. The Bretonnian ranger knights fighting in the second line fell by the hundreds. The dense barrage from the side caught the unprepared Bretonnian knights off guard, causing heavy losses. Many of their mounts were struck by lead bullets, leading to numerous knights being dismounted and captured.
(The army would not kill dismounted knights, as these were considered living coins to be exchanged for ransom.)
After firing, the pistoliers and outriders quickly retreated. These light cavalry units swiftly disappeared behind the Imperial lines.
"For the Empire! For Charlemagne! Hold the line!" Elector Umberto bellowed, his elector's holy sword "Mother of Destruction" gleaming in the pre-dawn darkness, boosting the morale of the Imperial soldiers. They desperately tried to block the knights from breaching the second line.
"Fight! Annihilate the knights from across the mountain! Victory belongs to the Empire! For Charlemagne!" Under Elector Umberto's command, the greatswordsmen were deployed into the fray, while the cannon crews and Hellstorm Rocket Battery teams found their shooting opportunities.
Cannons roared, plowing deep furrows through the Bretonnian troops.
Hellstorm rocket batteries, mounted on carts and constructed from single-tube rockets loaded with copious amounts of black powder, were launched by Imperial engineers. These rockets, meticulously designed with tail fins and rocket propulsion systems, were mounted on large wagons.
"Ready! Fire!" Imperial Master Engineer Herman from Nuln Gunnery School lifted his hand: "Launch!"
"Whoosh, whoosh!" Seven or eight rocket tubes fired into the sky, creating a spectacular fireworks display over Helmgarde before crashing into the advancing Bretonnian army.
The destructive blast waves swept through the Bretonnian formations, accompanied by ground tremors and roaring blasts that obliterated all in their path, killing large groups of serf infantry instantly.
The Bretonnian serf infantry began to show signs of faltering morale, many screaming and retreating as groups of ranger knights began to show signs of defeat, attempting to regroup.
However, the imprecision of the Hellstorm rockets also wreaked havoc, as despite the engineers' efforts to calibrate their accuracy, two rockets strayed into the Imperial lines.
The explosions caused chaos within the Imperial ranks, with Imperial greatswordsmen being hit by friendly fire, resulting in heavy casualties and a shaken formation.
Amidst this turmoil, Duke Casvan finally saw his chance.
Upon entering the battlefield, Casvan noticed that the Empire's elite, including the Griffon Knights, the Rick Guard, and the emperor himself, were not present within the Imperial lines.
Clearly, Emperor Karl-Franz wouldn't have fled the battle; thus, he must have led the elites away, possibly to flank and strike at Casvan's forces from behind. Believing that such a large-scale battle under Mount Doom would not go unnoticed by the emperor, Casvan knew he had to crush Elector Umberto and the Imperial forces before Emperor Karl-Franz could return with reinforcements.
Casvan turned calmly to his deputy: "Karel!"
"Yes!" Count Karel, the duke's deputy, nodded, lifting his lance: "Knights! In the name of the Lady, we have come far to fight in the Empire; in her name, we have battled to this point. Now, let us deliver a fatal blow to the Imperials!"
Three hundred kingdom knights and forty pegasus knights responded loudly: "For the Lady! For Bretonnia!"
This was the elite of Casvan's forces, reserved by the duke for this crucial moment. Now, the kingdom knights would shout the name of their goddess and crush all enemies!
"Advance!!!"
The lance formation of the kingdom knights swept across the plains like a furious storm, becoming a deadly whirlwind. The knights, adorned with crowns and wearing splendid sur
coats, were taciturn, but the impact they unleashed shattered the struggling Imperial lines.
The storm of kingdom knights swept through the second Imperial line, and even the halberdier formations could not withstand the group charge of the kingdom knights. Count Karel found a freshly destabilized weak spot in the Imperial lines, leading the charge, his lance piercing an Imperial captain.
The prowess of the Bretonnian kingdom knights swiftly tipped the scales of battle.
Count Karel drew his sword from his belt and with one strike, cleaved an Imperial greatswordsman in two. Then, the steel tide swept across the battlefield, with pegasus knights skimming low, scooping up Imperial soldiers and grinding them into pieces.
The second line of the Imperial forces collapsed under the charge of the kingdom knights, and Elector Umberto and his personal guard—the Golden Fleece knights and the greatsword regiments—finally appeared before the Bretonnians. The elector commanded the greatsword regiments into battle, barely stabilizing the situation.
As dawn broke, shifting from early morning to clear morning, the cold weather persisted, and the Imperial forces were still engaged in a bitter struggle with the Bretonnian army. All attempts to reorganize were failing, leaving only the chaotic fog of war on the battlefield.
Casvan knew that, based on the current battle conditions, his forces had a slight upper hand, relying on the numerical superiority of the knights and their collective charge, which momentarily put the Imperial forces at a disadvantage.
Yes, it was only temporary. Casvan knew that while his forces appeared to have a slight advantage, the serf infantry and sergeants were showing signs of exhaustion. The ranger knights, after their initial charge, had to engage in prolonged combat with the Imperial forces. The kingdom knights, though fewer in number, were finding it difficult to reach Elector Umberto.
Casvan knew he couldn't rely on the serf infantry and sergeants, as the Bretonnian infantry simply could not match the quality of the Imperial troops. They were holding on only because of the knights' collective charge, which had caused some instability among the Imperial forces. Once Emperor Karl-Franz returned with reinforcements, his own forces would be doomed.
Duke Paralon hesitated. In addition to a thousand infantry reserved to guard against an imperial flank attack, he had a reserve force of two hundred ranger knights and fifteen hundred infantry.
Should this reserve force now be committed to the battle?
Casvan was uncertain; if he committed all his reserves, it would be a gamble—a gamble that he could crush Elector Umberto and his Golden Fleece knights before Emperor Karl-Franz returned with reinforcements. However, Elector Umberto, a veteran of the Great Crusade and a sacred domain powerhouse, was not someone Casvan could easily surpass. The odds of this gamble were not in his favor.
Duke Paralon continued to hesitate, but within the Imperial lines, Elector Umberto of Tuscany, with a face full of beard, nodded calmly: "Although it's not quite as expected, Casvan has taken the initiative to attack, and Emperor Karl objective has been achieved."
"Now, let the knights of Bretonnia witness the power of our Empire," declared Elector Umberto with a grand gesture. The engineers from the Nuln Gunnery School and the Brunswick Royal Engineering Academy understood the command.
As the battle's winds shifted dramatically, from the center of the Imperial lines, five steel behemoths finally revealed their fangs. Their massive forms, powered by the compressed steam of roaring pressure boilers, rolled out on giant wheels, spewing clouds of steam as they entered the fray.
The Empire had finally revealed its trump card in this war.
In the midst of this unfolding chaos, Duke Casvan faced a critical decision. The presence of these steel behemoths, known as Steam Tanks, was a significant escalation. These mechanical monsters, armored and unstoppable, could potentially turn the tide of battle, crushing infantry and cavalry alike beneath their iron treads.
Duke Casvan quickly assessed the new threat. "Form defensive lines! Protect the infantry and target those behemoths!" he commanded, signaling his troops to adapt to this new challenge. The Bretonnian knights, though exhausted, reformed their ranks, preparing to face the mechanical onslaught.
The Steam Tanks, engineered marvels of the Empire, began their assault, targeting the clusters of Bretonnian troops with their steam-powered cannons and crushing the scattered forces under their immense weight. The battlefield trembled under their advance, and the sound of crushing metal and screams filled the air.
However, the Bretonnian forces were not without their own responses. Casvan called upon his artillery units, which had been held in reserve until now. "Bring up the trebuchets! Target those tanks!" With these orders, the ancient war machines, loaded with large boulders and incendiary devices, began to lob their payloads toward the slowly advancing tanks.
The first volleys were ineffective, merely bouncing off the thick armor of the tanks or exploding harmlessly nearby. But the Bretonnians adjusted their aim and timing, coordinating their fire with assaults by the ranger knights, who attempted to exploit any weakness in the tanks' movements or exposed operational gears.
Amidst this tactical shift, a small group of Bretonnian engineers, led by a daring knight known as Sir Roland, embarked on a desperate mission. They carried with them explosive charges—risky to use but potentially decisive. Creeping through the chaos of battle, they aimed to plant these charges at the less armored rear sections of the tanks, hoping to disable or at least immobilize these steel monsters.
As the battle raged on, the outcome remained uncertain. The Imperial forces, bolstered by the presence of their Steam Tanks, pushed forward, gaining ground against the weary Bretonnian defenders. Yet, each time a tank faltered or exploded into flames, the Bretonnian morale surged, driving them to push back with renewed vigor.
Duke Casvan, observing the battlefield from a slight elevation, understood the stakes. This battle, which had begun at dawn and now bled into the day, was approaching its critical phase. "This day will decide the fate of our lands," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the swirling melee below, where steel clashed with steel, and the future of Bretonnia hung in the balance.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Casvan, Emperor Karl-Franz and his elite cavalry, having completed their flanking maneuver, were now closing rapidly on the battlefield from the rear. Their arrival, expected at any moment, would either shatter the Bretonnian lines or galvanize them for one final, desperate stand.
As the sun climbed higher, the shadows shortened, and the clash of empires continued unabated, the air filled with the smell of smoke, blood, and the iron tang of determination from both sides. Each soldier, knight, and engineer on that field knew that their actions that day would echo through history, shaping the destiny of nations and the lives of countless souls yet to come.
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