"This is simply magic equipment custom-made for me…" Morin murmured, solemnly placing the necklace around his neck. He felt a weak, warm surge of magic power integrating into his body. The Spell Slot count on his system [Spell] interface had indeed increased after donning the necklace.
He contentedly organized his spoils, mentally calculating how to write his report to reasonably keep these valuable items for himself.
Morin stepped out of the tent, and Kleist and Manstein immediately rushed to greet him.
"Battalion Commander, your waist…" Kleist's face was etched with worry as he looked at Morin's slightly stiff movements. "Please take command from the headquarters today. We will handle the front line."
Manstein seconded the suggestion: "Yes, Battalion Commander! You commanded excellently from the airship yesterday, didn't you? We can execute your orders from the rear just as well."
Morin stretched his waist. The pulling sensation from the stitched wound made him wince, but he shook his head. "It's not the same. Yesterday, I had Captain Schneider's Armored Airship acting as my eyes, but we no longer have that perfect view. The battlefield changes rapidly; by the time you report the situation and I issue an order, the Roasted Pig Knuckles will be cold."
He patted both subordinates on the shoulder, continuing: "Don't worry, I know my limits. I won't risk my own life."
Kleist and Manstein exchanged glances, both seeing the helplessness in the other's eyes. They knew that once their unconventional Battalion Commander made a decision, nothing could change it.
"Very well." Kleist finally sighed. "I will have a platoon from the 4th Company follow you at every step."
"Suit yourself~" Morin waved dismissively, his gaze already fixed on the smoke-shrouded urban area deep in the South City. He realized he was showing symptoms of transforming into a 'War Maniac.' When did this start? Morin mused as he walked into the city. Perhaps the moment I jumped out of the Armored Airship over the Liège Fortress…
The new day of fighting in South Amiens had begun at dawn, but the atmosphere on the battlefield was strangely bizarre. The Britannian defense line seemed to have retreated significantly overnight. Many city blocks that were scenes of fierce fighting yesterday were deserted when the Saxon soldiers advanced this morning, leaving behind only spent casings and a mess.
The Saxon commanders leading the frontal assault naturally wasted no time, immediately ordering a full-scale push into the South City core, seeing this as a stroke of luck. However, when the excited Saxon soldiers surged into these seemingly abandoned blocks, their smiles quickly vanished. The Britannians had not retreated; they had dug an even bigger trap.
The professional Britannian soldiers had also grown rapidly during the fighting. The penetrating Saxon units quickly found themselves running into a new defense line composed of crossfire, sturdy barricades, and elevated firing positions in buildings. These Britannians had seemingly learned overnight, no longer fighting like the rigid fools who only launched suicidal charges or held fixed positions. Instead, they adopted small-scale infiltration and flanking maneuvers, utilizing the complex urban terrain. Sporadic Britannian Assault Squads would suddenly emerge from an obscure ruin or even the city sewers, striking the flank and rear of the Saxon forces.
Fierce fighting erupted simultaneously across multiple sectors of South Amiens. The Saxon offensive was fiercely contained, and casualties began to climb.
"Battalion Commander, the 113th Grenadier Regiment of the 8th Division is blocked at Rue Notre-Dame! They are facing numerous Britannian defenders, and there are enemy Machine Guns in the buildings on both flanks. They have been repelled twice, suffering heavy losses!"
"The 2nd Imperial Guards Infantry Division is facing a similar situation. They are pinned down in front of a small plaza and cannot advance!" Bad news continued to pour into the temporary forward Command Post in the city.
"Let's go, time to play firefighter!" Morin grabbed his submachine gun without hesitation. "Order all companies to support the nearest allied unit based on their proximity!"
The Instruction Assault Battalion immediately plunged into the fighting as a 'battlefield emergency squad.' Seeing the Britannians adopt this defensive, urban attrition style—the very tactics he championed—Morin's lips curled into a smile. "Playing this game, are we? You still have a lot to learn from me."
The Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers naturally carried far more explosives and demolition charges than regular troops, and all were trained in basic demolition. Therefore, the Britannian tactic of holding buildings posed no problem for them; it merely provided excellent demolition targets.
In the block where Klaus's 1st Company was fighting, the 1st Platoon soldiers quickly entered a seemingly safe apartment building. After confirming the location of the adjacent building housing a Britannian strongpoint, the Assault Battalion soldiers skillfully planted explosives on the shared wall.
"Prepare for demolition!"
"Boom——!!!"
With a loud blast, a huge gap was ripped open in the thick brick wall. Amidst the smoke and dust, the terrified screams of the Britannian soldiers in the adjacent building were clearly audible.
"Grenades!" Several grenades were tossed into the adjacent room first, detonating in quick succession in the confined space.
"Assault team! Go!" The Assault Squad waiting nearby rushed in the moment the explosions occurred. The furious hail of submachine gun fire instantly shredded the few Britannian soldiers who had not yet reacted. Amidst the dense gunfire, the Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers, like ferocious beasts, conducted a bloody hunt within the narrow confines of the building. This tactic, which would later be known as 'breaching assault' or 'clearing the rat's nest,' was demonstrating its effectiveness in Amiens City.
The other Saxon units quickly noticed the continuous sound of explosions and the highly efficient advance of the Instruction Assault Battalion, and began to imitate their methods. First, explosives from the engineer units were rushed to the front line, and then more and more engineer units were brought forward to participate directly in the demolitions. For a time, the entirety of South Amiens became a demolition site, with continuous explosions echoing everywhere.
The Instruction Assault Battalion continued to easily slice through the Britannians' supposedly firm defense line. However, after advancing a certain distance, Morin decisively ordered a halt.
"Notify all units to stop the assault! Establish a defense line on the spot and wait for the flanks to catch up!" He instructed several Dispatch Riders, specifically emphasizing the message for the 2nd Company's Dispatch Rider, as Wolff, that reckless commander, had once again nearly overextended his unit.
In a newly captured three-story building, a squad from the 2nd Company quickly cleared the room and set up an MG14 Light Machine Gun at a street-facing window. The dark muzzle firmly sealed off the street ahead, while several soldiers secured the rest of the room. Just then, in a second-floor bedroom, the wall adjacent to the neighboring building suddenly exploded with a 'boom!'
Rubble and smoke flew everywhere! The two Assault Battalion soldiers in the room instinctively rolled away the moment the blast occurred, diving into an adjacent room with astonishing speed. One soldier tightly hugged the doorway, listening intently. He first heard incomprehensible voices speaking a foreign language, followed by chaotic and hurried footsteps closing in.
The next second, a bayonet-fixed rifle barrel tentatively probed through the hole in the wall.
Now! The soldier moved like lightning. His left hand violently shoved the rifle aside, preventing the enemy from aiming. At the same time, the submachine gun tucked under his right arm was already aimed at the hole.
"Da-da-da-da-da!"
The close-range burst of automatic fire was deafening in the small room. The Britannian soldier who had poked his head through was instantly hit by a spray of blood, and fell backward without even a cry. His comrades behind him were shocked and tried to rush forward, but their long rifles were useless in the narrow breach. In the ensuing scramble, the Assault Battalion soldier managed to drop the second attacker with a precise burst.
"Well done!" A nearby soldier, hiding behind cover, seized the opportunity to lean out and spray a burst of fire through the hole, pinning down the Britannian soldiers attempting to rush in.
"Grenade!" The Squad Leader, who had rushed to the staircase, pulled the pin and accurately threw a grenade through the hole in the wall. Several more grenades followed. Accompanied by several muffled explosions and screams, the neighboring room fell silent.
The 2nd Company Squad Leader gestured. A soldier cautiously peered into the next room with his rifle, then breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed there were no survivors. "Damn, these Britannians learn fast." The Squad Leader spat. That moment was truly dangerous. If the soldiers hadn't reacted quickly, a fierce melee in the confined room would have been inevitable.
Such house-to-house, bloody and brutal skirmishes unfolded simultaneously in every corner of South Amiens. Every inch of ground had to be paid for with blood and lives. The meat grinder of war was operating at maximum power.
By noon, the tenacious battle finally reached a decisive turning point. General Mackensen, personally leading the First Army Group main force, swept in from the west flank of Amiens and successfully linked up with the Third and Fourth Corps attacking the front. The two iron pincers of the Saxon Empire had firmly closed on South Amiens. The situation for the remaining Britannian Expeditionary Force still in the city became increasingly dire.
(End of this Chapter)