Chapter 11: The Beginning of the First Battle

Fifteen minutes later, with Klaus’s assistance, Morlin assembled the entire platoon. The soldiers finished inspecting their weapons and ammunition, slung on their backpacks, and silently formed three columns in platoon formation, awaiting the next orders.

During this brief pause, Morlin discovered a new way to utilize the ‘golden finger’ ability in his mind. He realized he could shrink the detailed battlefield map and fix it semi-transparently in the upper left corner of his vision. It was like having a mini-map in an RTS game or Battlefield, allowing him to glance at it anytime.

Though this meant he couldn’t switch to other tabs like ‘intelligence’ or ‘information’ temporarily, the advantage was clear. He could constantly monitor the movements of both friend and foe without fearing that sudden events would forcibly close the entire UI.

“Platoon leader, the company is moving,” Klaus’s voice pulled Morlin back to reality.

“Move out.” Without wasting words, Morlin gave the simple command and led his 3rd platoon to join the other two platoons and the company headquarters.

The sun had yet to rise, only faint light glimmered below the horizon, and the forest remained dim. The soldiers’ boots crushed dry twigs and leaves, producing faint crackling sounds mixed with the metallic clinks of their gear, composing the unique melody of marching troops.

Soon, they reached the 3rd company’s assembly area. Captain Hauser stood at the front, with the other two platoons already lined up behind him. Morlin directed his unit to quickly link up at the rear of the formation.

A tall, stern-looking company sergeant hurried to Captain Hauser and stood at attention to report, “All present, sir!”

“Thank you, Sergeant!” Hauser nodded and stepped to the front of the company.

“Company! Align center! Quick march!”

The company sergeant stood behind Hauser while the other company officers moved to the formation’s flanks, repeating orders and maintaining marching discipline.

“Left, right, left! Left, right, left...” The nearly two hundred soldiers, excluding the supply train, once again transformed into a long gray serpent under the officers’ and NCOs’ commands, silently advancing toward their designated attack staging area.

After about ten minutes, the formation stopped behind a low thicket. This was the 3rd company’s standby zone, also serving as the 1st battalion’s reserve attack staging ground.

Through gaps in the bushes, Morlin clearly saw the open field ahead. The 1st company soldiers had deployed three roughly 150-meter-wide skirmish lines front to rear—though not exactly what Morlin considered classic skirmish lines, for late-line combat, a formation with 1–2 meters between soldiers was sufficient.

Behind them, the 2nd company formed a dense column. As the unit designated to rapidly penetrate enemy lines once a gap was created, the 2nd company’s rifle muzzles were already fixed with bayonets, their gleaming points catching the early dawn’s light.

The entire scene was eerily silent, with only the wind’s mournful whisper sweeping across the plain.

Morlin glanced at the silver pocket watch loaned by Captain Hauser; its hands steadily approached 5:07.

At the appointed moment, the oppressive silence shattered with a sharp whistle. A ranging shell tore through the sky, exploding beyond the village of San Isidro, sending up a plume of black smoke.

On the mini-map in the upper left, the artillery position icon flickered, a red parabolic arc precisely landing on the village’s edge.

Then a second ranging shell fell closer to the village center.

The ranging was complete.

In the next instant, the sky filled with the piercing shriek of artillery shells.

The field artillery battalion’s twelve FK.96n/A 77mm field guns opened rapid fire.

Though small caliber, their combined volley unleashed terrifying destructive power.

Explosions merged into a continuous roar, enveloping San Isidro in smoke and dust.

Dirt, rubble, and fragments of houses were hurled high, falling back in a chaotic cascade.

The “God of War” revealed his first edge in this moment.

After three rapid volleys, the bombardment abruptly ceased.

The battlefield fell into a brief dead silence once more.

Morlin sensed the soldiers’ breaths nearby growing heavier; many faces showed signs of excitement.

To them, such a fierce artillery preparation was enough to utterly break the spirit of the Aragonese militia entrenched in the village.

The moment the shelling stopped, a sharp whistle cut through the stillness—the signal to attack.

Beyond the bushes, the 1st company’s three skirmish lines began advancing steadily.

The soldiers marched in unison, their Gew.98 rifles held level at chest height, muzzles pointed toward the smoke-shrouded village ahead.

Their pace was not fast but each step was firm and measured; the formation advanced almost without disruption.

The army’s discipline was perfectly embodied in this moment.

After advancing roughly one hundred meters, the 2nd company behind them began to move.

The soldiers, still in tight columns, followed the same rhythm at their officers’ commands.

They did not spread out but maintained close ranks, ready to charge with maximum force once the 1st company breached the enemy lines.

The rising sun cast golden light over the plain, illuminating the pointed tops of helmets and the rows of bayonets glinting coldly at rifle muzzles.

The 360 soldiers formed a gray wave of attack, silently surging toward the village of San Isidro.

The entire advance was almost unnervingly quiet.

Aside from the soft sound of boots on the ground and occasional low commands from officers, there was no other noise.

Morlin crouched behind the bushes, his heart tightening involuntarily.

On the mini-map in the upper left, the blue icons representing the 1st and 2nd companies steadily approached a gray diamond symbolizing an unknown enemy force.

Everything seemed to proceed exactly as Captain Hauser had predicted.

The village defenders appeared genuinely cowed by the recent fierce shelling, cowering within the ruins without showing themselves.

The 1st and 2nd companies quickly covered more than half the distance, encountering no resistance.

Morlin even noticed some soldiers from the 3rd company relaxing slightly, whispering among themselves as if the battle had already been won.

Captain Hauser also wore a relaxed smile, even tapping his pipe against his shoe heel, preparing to enjoy a brief respite before victory.

Yet this optimistic atmosphere did not last long.

When the 1st company’s forward skirmish line was less than two hundred meters from the village edge, sudden, concentrated gunfire erupted from the ruins.

Blood splattered across the 1st company’s skirmish line; several soldiers fell, writhing in pain on the ground.

The defenders, having recovered, launched a counterattack.

The attacking formation wavered briefly under the sudden assault but was quickly quelled by whistles and stern shouts from the non-commissioned officers.

“Stop! Aim rifles!”

“Fire!”

With the sergeant’s sharp whistle and the officers’ commands, the 1st company’s skirmish line halted in perfect unison, dropped to one knee, and raised their rifles.

They fired in volleys toward the source of the gunfire.

After a dense burst of rifle fire, the enemy’s firepower at the village edge visibly weakened.

“Advance!”

The soldiers rose and charged forward, rifles at the ready.

Stop, aim, fire, charge... this cycle repeated over the next several dozen meters.

Though casualties mounted, the company’s momentum remained largely unbroken.

Their strict training discipline and the precise volley fire of the Gew.98 rifles suppressed the village defenders’ firepower.

The scales of victory seemed to tip in favor of the Saxons.

But Morlin did not relax for a moment.

His full attention was fixed on the small map in the upper left.

Just now, a new red icon suddenly appeared without warning on the outskirts of San Isidro, coinciding with the approach of the 1st and 2nd companies.

[Aragon Kingdom Army – Vicks Machine Gun Position]