9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 159 - The Crack (3)

The ground, where snow was slowly beginning to melt, turned muddy. With every step, muddy water splashed up, leaving stains on their military uniforms.

“Damn this muddy mess!”

“Well, we’re almost done, sir.”

When the senior soldier complained irritably, a freckled private chuckled and placated him.

They were currently working on fortifications. More precisely, it was called a ‘trench,’ though the ignorant soldiers didn’t need to know that.

The private with good eyesight looked toward the distant mages who were struggling to maintain their protective barrier.

Rumors said that wouldn’t last much longer either. Ten days at most? That’s what a senior who claimed to have worked with mages in his younger days had bragged about.

Either way, it was true that the platoon leader was driving them hard to complete the trench construction perfectly by next week.

Feeling like they were being whipped, they dug out the half-frozen ground and piled up large sand-filled sacks in circular formation.

The hard labor felt like it would break their backs, but no one thought of complaining. In fact, they threw themselves into the work with enthusiasm.

That’s how sky-high their hatred for Schufaben was. And their heroic desire to defeat them and save half the continent.

Just as thousands of trenches were nearing completion.

They arrived.

***

“How do we deal with that?”

I muttered while staring through binoculars at the trenches, barely visible to the eye if not for the walls built from sandbag sacks.

Using mages here too would be insane. Our mana stone reserves couldn’t handle it.

Artillery would be the same. Even if we poured shells down, it would be difficult to neutralize them instantly.

The air force might be able to do it, but we don’t have one right now.

No, what I’m actually worried about isn’t how to break through those trenches.

‘How can I buy time without making it obvious while wearing down Schufaben’s national strength…’

That’s it.

“Right. Let’s keep it simple.”

After hours of standing motionless lost in thought, I muttered, causing Deputy Commander Eisler and Captain Himmel to turn their heads.

“Build defensive lines. I’ll send a report to His Excellency the Supreme Leader.”

I was curious.

What choice would Kruger make?

「Eastern Front Situation Report」

After uploading a report with trench sketches and a map showing the front-line situation, I lounged around in the barracks.

“Colin, fetch!”

I enjoyed playing catch with Colin.

“Captain Himmel, tell me about your family. Are you exchanging letters properly?”

I also tormented Captain Himmel.

Of course, I was the only one with time on my hands—from the deputy commander down to the privates, everyone was running around on high alert.

Since I had ordered this side to dig trenches too.

Whether it was the Queen’s will or because all the mages had been deployed to build barriers, the Rubellia side didn’t particularly interfere with us.

It was probably the former.

If both sides dug into trenches, Queen Marianne, who had first created trench warfare doctrine in this world, would be able to properly imagine what would happen.

‘It’ll drag out horribly, probably.’

After the soldiers had dug into the earthen pits and laid cloth and wooden boards on the bottom, brought in lanterns, field beds, sleeping bags, and supplies, and barely finished the walls with sandbags.

The air force arrived with Kruger’s written orders.

「Act thoroughly according to operational plan」

That operational plan was, well…

“What kind of suicide charge is this?”

I almost burst out laughing at the absurdity. Kruger clearly treated infantry lives like swarms of flies.

Of course, it wasn’t completely mindless charging—quite detailed preliminary preparations were written out.

But it was still a charge nonetheless. Actually, there weren’t really any other options.

Kruger knew it too.

“Can’t be helped.”

After two days, I left the barracks.

Dragons and airships cast shadows overhead as they glided through the sky.

I had to shout to all officers, staff, and soldiers.

To sacrifice their one and only life and brilliant youth to the nation. To throw all those beautiful values into that dark, gloomy pit.

And 500,000 soldiers accepted it gladly. They burned with resolute determination.

A weak laugh escaped me.

Probably the Rubellia side was the same. The Queen or Prime Minister appealing to the people, and the people cheering enthusiastically.

In this vast border region, I was the only one who didn’t want war.

The fate of the world.

Historical inevitability.

Accepting it that way made me feel a little better.

***

It was terrible.

That was the only way to describe what was happening on the Eastern Front.

As soon as Supreme Commander Lucas Redan’s orders came down, the air force moved first.

Half of the deployed dragon units had been assigned to maritime combat to crush the Kashan Principality in the south, while the remaining half came to support the Eastern Front.

Bang!

Boom boom boom!

Over a hundred dragons flew through the sky, mercilessly dropping new high-explosive bombs. The bombs that crashed into the earth burst with blue flames.

This time, newly developed airships also made their appearance.

Massive beyond adequate description—airships the size of cathedrals were deployed not only for dragon transport but also for enemy surveillance and artillery missions, where they excelled.

Meanwhile, the artillery also began bombardment. So many bombs flew toward where the Rubellia soldiers were hiding that the flashes blinded eyes and brought tears.

The explosions instantly burst and destroyed the wooden stakes, barbed wire, and protective walls built with sandbags that the enemy had installed.

Of course, the Rubellia side didn’t just sit still. They responded equally with air force and artillery.

“Kieeeaaaaaah!”

Sometimes dragons would clash with each other, fighting until they were bloody. But their cries of pain were drowned out by the explosions.

For over 24 hours, only the sound of exploding bombs echoed across various points along the vast front line.

The bombs didn’t always work properly.

This was the southeastern border region.

A place where spring came about a month earlier than Lüdelheim. In mid-February, as temperatures just began to thaw, the fields and forests had turned completely soft.

Even when bombs were scattered, countless cases occurred where they either didn’t explode at all, buried in the thawed, muddy ground and soft marshland, or when they did explode, they only churned up the earth instead of the enemy’s structures.

No matter how magical the weapons, it was excessive luxury to attach detonators or spell devices to every single bomb.

Duds became landmines buried in the earth or blew off the legs of unlucky soldiers.

However, both armies continued bombardment without stopping, consuming tremendous amounts of mana stones as if there were no tomorrow. Thus, the area between the two countries’ trench lines became a land of death where everything had been swept away.

During this time, the infantry crouched in trenches waiting only for the bombardment to end. Occasionally some were sacrificed when fragments flew or earth collapsed.

Even so, among the combined forces of over a million from both Schufaben and Rubellia, it was barely noticeable.

Finally, the explosions that had seemed eternal faded away.

On a day when the sun shone particularly warmly.

Supreme Commander Lucas Redan ordered the charge.

“Waaaaaahhhhh!”

Hundreds of thousands of infantry began their advance. Just like when they had captured Pontinell.

Because of the Rubellia mages constantly disrupting communications, messengers ran back and forth like a hundred years ago to relay operations.

So the timing of charges differed slightly between units, but the sight of soldiers emerging from trenches spread across tens of thousands of setins and moving toward the opposite trenches was spectacular. At least, that’s how it looked from the sky.

The Schufaben army covered the earth like swarms of ants.

The enemy fired cannons wildly and raked machine guns. Soldiers caught in the fire net fell one by one, but no one looked back. No, they couldn’t look back. If they did, they too would have their hearts pierced by stray bullets.

They frantically dodged bullets, fell down, got up, and ran repeatedly.

Some crawled flat on their bellies, or created shallow temporary trenches to hide while moving.

In forested battlefields, they exchanged gunfire with trees between them, and in mountain shadows where snow hadn’t yet melted, they used incendiary rounds to strip away enemy camouflage.

Thus, slowly but surely, they were advancing.

Private Ralph Brandt was no different.

“Get down!!!”

At the platoon leader’s shout, Ralph quickly ducked.

The enemy positions were still far away, but due to the constant rain of bombs and bullets, they couldn’t even straighten their backs properly.

It felt like blood would pour from his ears at any moment. The ground shook, making his whole body ache.

For a moment, Ralph thought of Private Albert Schiller, who had shared his hospital room in Hakleon.

He had lost one leg and been discharged, returning to Schufaben. At the time, Ralph had pitied him as he screamed incoherently with an unsound mind, but now he was envious beyond measure.

‘Why did I enlist?’

While dwelling on fundamental regret, Ralph crawled across the ground that was pockmarked everywhere, making visibility difficult.

“Cavalry!”

The platoon leader’s shout came again. And the sound of hoofbeats too.

Bang! Ratang!

The Rubellia army viciously sent out cavalry to hunt the charging Schufaben forces.

They had cavalry units too, plenty of them. But cavalry charges against trenches were obviously insane. Most of them had their horses confiscated and were reorganized as infantry battalions.

Ralph realized within less than a day.

In this bizarre form of combat he’d never heard of or seen before, the defending side had extreme advantages, while the attacking side had to accept truly tremendous sacrifices.

“Hyaaaah!”

“What are you doing!”

A horse charged like a monster. Ralph threw himself forward, pushing away a private who was burying his head in the ground like an ostrich and trembling.

Rolling down the sloped ground, they fell into a crater created by the intense bombardment.

The constant explosions from both sides had caused the previously flat terrain to become pitted, cracked, and uneven. Such terrain served as excellent cover for the Schufaben forces.

“Th-thank you.”

The private who had barely saved his life panted and muttered.

“Save that for after the battle’s over.”

Ralph replied anxiously while glancing outside the shallow crater.

He made eye contact with the charging cavalryman. The moment the cavalryman raised a grenade high, he reflexively pulled the trigger of his rifle.

“Uaaahhhhh!”

He shouted loudly to shake off his fear.

What happened next, he wasn’t quite sure.

The cavalryman probably got hit by Ralph’s shot and fell from his horse, and the grenade was thrown not into the crater but rolled somewhere else and exploded.

Ralph had stuck his face outside, but it was the unlucky private who died from grenade fragments.

Piiiiiii!

With a bang! something exploded, causing ringing in his ears. Ralph grimaced and covered his ears.

After dozens of seconds, when he regained his senses, he discovered the private lying sprawled with eyes wide open.

Metal fragments embedded in his head and abdomen.

Outside the crater, the platoon leader was still shouting loudly. Ralph sat there in a daze, then reached out to close the private’s eyes.

When the sun set, soldiers spent the night in craters.

Afraid that light might leak, they couldn’t even light campfires, and wrapped in blankets, they hastily swallowed cold combat rations.

Taking turns standing watch in twos or threes, everyone fought off drowsiness and fatigue by pinching their forearms or observing the night sky.

The airships floating around blocking the moon were fantastical, but useless now.

They had consumed all their loaded bombs and had been quiet for hours already.

Though they continued surveillance missions of enemy camps, with communications cut off, there was no way to relay information to headquarters.

It was a hellish repetition of time.

Crawling along the ground, taking refuge in craters, shooting guns, throwing bombs.

The craters scattered everywhere began transforming into proper trenches like those in the rear.

Ah, ‘proper’ might be somewhat inappropriate. At least Ralph angrily struck a comrade’s head when he said so.

Spending nights in damp, bug-infested trenches was absolutely terrible.

Rats the size of forearms constantly scurried around stealing combat rations.

Ralph had been irritably catching and killing rats, but after discovering one night while on guard duty a rat eating a comrade’s corpse, he kept his mouth shut.

When night fell and bombardment ceased, the moans and screams of wounded scattered everywhere began to be heard. Sometimes when brigade or regiment commanders gave orders, they had to go rescue the wounded.

Ralph was selected once too, and though he protested that the leg bone he’d broken in the Hakleon battle had only recently healed, it didn’t work at all.

Around dawn, snipers from the Rubellia trenches would creep out to target soldiers moving wounded, picking up supplies, or repairing protective walls.

After being hit several times, headquarters became desperate to catch the snipers, but since they operated in the brief gap between night and morning and then disappeared, it was nearly impossible.

Still, Ralph slowly moved forward.