Chapter 15: Fix Bayonets and Deal with These Gray Beasts!

“Lady Coldblood, over there—who’s firing so fiercely? Are they our allies?”

In a trench at one end of the battlefield, a group of soldiers from the Cambrian Empire were pinned down by relentless artillery fire from above, barely able to lift their heads. Yet at that moment, they noticed movement along the flanking position.

Though the other side was shrouded in thick smoke, obscuring the details of the skirmish, the ceaseless gunfire and occasional agonized cries of the enemy painted a vivid picture in their minds.

“Brothers, let’s push toward them, link up, and break through together!”

“Deploy smoke grenades for cover! We’ll engage these damned Black Eagle devils in close combat—children of the Polar Bear fear no fight!”

An officer shouted to the soldiers nearby, then swiftly ran to a nearby mortar. In the ammunition crate beside it lay smoke grenades. Throughout the earlier fighting, they had used smoke to shield their positions, but the thought of charging through the smoke to close quarters was unprecedented.

With the enemy’s artillery raining down, the officer fired several smoke rounds from the mortar. Before the Black Eagle soldiers mixed in the smoke could retreat, a group of soldiers clad in gray combat uniforms roared as they charged forward.

Across the battlefield, similar fierce clashes erupted. Trapped and cut off from rear support, the Cambrian soldiers chose to risk everything in this desperate assault.

Though lacking unified command, they all surged toward where André was positioned—likely because André’s charge was the fiercest, leading the vanguard.

Thanks to the presence of players, André’s charge was unstoppable.

Though the other soldiers fought bravely, bayonets fixed, charging ahead, they soon realized they had become unwitting beneficiaries of an easy victory.

These players possessed superhuman stamina and agility, darting everywhere with remarkable skill.

Their automatic weapons swept through enemy lines, felling multiple foes in an instant, leaving the enemy no chance to retaliate.

Even small groups of enemies hiding in shell craters were swiftly dealt with, as the players tossed numerous grenades, blowing their foes sky-high.

Under normal circumstances, such tactics would have drained the soldiers’ ammunition long ago.

But setting aside the seemingly limitless ammo the players carried, it was the magical supply from their support units that created an endless ammunition cycle for them.

André had personally examined one of these ammo packs dropped by a player, trying to understand its function.

He discovered that after opening the crate, the ammunition inside perfectly matched his pistol’s caliber.

Yet earlier, he had seen a player retrieve a bundle of grenades and several extended magazines from the same crate—none compatible with his pistol rounds.

“Damn! The players’ physics engine in reality is truly broken!” André muttered in disbelief. The longer he stayed with these players, the more absurd their advantages seemed.

There was no time to dwell on this; he had to keep pace with the players, advancing forward, occasionally blowing his whistle to gather them toward his position.

These players, fueled by endless stamina, ran as if possessed, wild and unstoppable.

But therein lay the problem—once engaged, they became reckless, darting about like headless flies.

If not for André’s periodic calls to regroup, they might have run straight into the enemy’s command post!

Indeed, with their current assault, that was exactly where they seemed headed.

Meanwhile, on the Black Eagle Empire’s side, officers stationed at their positions were stunned.

Faced with the Cambrian soldiers mixing with the advancing troops and launching countercharges, the Black Eagle officers were at a loss.

“For the Emperor’s sake, these fools are acting entirely without order! What in the world are these northern barbarians thinking?”

A group of freshly graduated officers, eager to prove themselves on the battlefield, stared dumbfounded at the rolling smoke.

“Captain, let’s open fire with our machine guns! Otherwise, they’ll overrun us!”

One officer urged a captain wearing a wide-brimmed hat, but the captain shook his head.

“Enough. It’s not yet time. Our comrades are tangled with the enemy—if you unleash machine gun fire now, you’ll kill everyone.”

Drawing his pistol in one hand and unsheathing his saber with the other, he called to his troops:

“Fix bayonets! Charge and stab them to death! For the honor of the Teutons—attack!”

Despite the ferocity of the enemy’s assault, the captain held great faith in his soldiers.

Years of rigorous training combined with ample rations had forged men both skilled in hand-to-hand combat and possessing formidable endurance.

He could not believe his soldiers would lose in close quarters to a bunch of former serfs.

Though the Cambrian Empire had long since abolished serfdom, to the Black Eagle Empire they were still nothing more than gray beasts.

Scores of Black Eagle soldiers leapt from their trenches, confident as they surged into the smoke—but then came the shock.

Facing players who seemed possessed, sprinting forward while firing, their numerical superiority counted for nothing.

Soldiers barely out of their trenches found themselves engulfed by a barrage of smoke grenades, disoriented and unable to pinpoint where the enemies emerged.

Players wielding spiked clubs struck with brutal precision, smashing skulls with a single blow.

No ordinary Cambrian soldier could kill so swiftly and decisively—one enemy down every second—their speed was unreal.

What terrified the Black Eagle soldiers even more was when, after finally stabbing down a foe, the player’s comrades saw him inject a tiny needle into the fallen body.

To everyone’s horror, the player who had just been bayoneted in the heart sprang up again, full of life.

“Necromancy… it must be necromancy!”

“Damn it! Those hypocritical Cambrians accuse us, yet use necromancy themselves! How despicable!”

André heard the shouts in the smoke and furrowed his brow, understanding what the enemy was saying.

But the mention of necromancy sparked a troubling thought deep within him.