On the bridge of the L24 Armored Airship, alarms sounded one after another, and red warning lights flashed continuously. The airship's hull shook violently, the angle of inclination increasing rapidly, and its altitude continued to drop.
Looking out the bridge's window, thick smoke billowed from the huge rupture in the gas envelope, obscuring half the sky. Captain Hoffmann tightly gripped the edge of the captain's chair, trying to steady himself. He listened to the stream of bad news being reported by the crew, his face grim.
"Captain, the portside gas envelope is severely damaged, beyond repair! The Magic Core is overloaded, power output is insufficient! We are falling fast!" The pilot's voice was tinged with despair.
Captain Hoffmann closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew the situation was irreversible. The L24 Armored Airship, his old comrade of fourteen years of service, had reached the end of its life.
Fourteen years… The number echoed in his mind. He remembered the excitement of first boarding the L24 Armored Airship. At that time, he had just transferred from the Navy, serving as the airship's First Officer, filled with infinite ambition for the future. He remembered the hardship and sweat during his airship captain training and the immense glory of finally being promoted to Captain.
This airship had long been a part of his life. It had carried him, time and again, toward the direction of the Emperor's sword, bearing witness to his countless victories and glories. For Hoffmann, L24 was more than just an Armored Airship; it was his second home, the continuation of his honor and his life.
"Captain!" The helmsman's voice pulled him back to reality from his memories. "We are quickly approaching the sky above North Amiens and are closing in on the Somme River. If we don't take action soon, we might crash directly into the river!"
Captain Hoffmann opened his eyes. He looked at the frantic crew members in the bridge, and all hesitation vanished from his eyes. "Everyone, listen to my command!" he shouted loudly. "Abandon the airship! Bail out immediately!"
The crew members were momentarily stunned, then erupted in a commotion. "Captain, what about you?" a young crewman asked, confused.
Captain Hoffmann did not answer. He simply gave them a deep, final look, then walked to the composite communication device behind the captain's seat and issued the command for the entire crew to immediately bail out. After repeating it three times, he walked to the helmsman's seat and took the helm.
"Gentlemen, this is my final order as Captain of the L24 Armored Airship! Execute it quickly!" Hoffmann urged the crew on the bridge to leave while attempting to stabilize the airship's posture.
The crew members knew that Captain Hoffmann did not intend to leave the Armored Airship—the old Captain, who had transferred from the Navy, carried the peculiar obsession of a naval officer. Soon, personnel from various departments of the airship began to evacuate. After donning their parachutes, they gathered at the already open bomb bay door. Then, one by one, they jumped out, deploying their parachutes, forming white blossoms in the sky. Whether they would survive now depended entirely on their luck. The luckier ones might drift directly back to friendly lines. Those with average luck might land in the contested zone, where they could hide and wait for rescue. But those with poor luck, who drifted onto the Britannian positions, could only pray for the best.
When everyone had bailed out, Captain Hoffmann was the only one left on the bridge. He gently stroked the helm with both hands, as if caressing his closest companion. He knew he could not simply let the L24 crash into the deserted countryside. Hoffmann wished for himself and the L24 Armored Airship to deliver their final value, paving a path to victory for the Empire, the Emperor, and their allies fighting in the trenches below.
He fiercely pushed the engine telegraph to 'Full Ahead,' and the airship's external propellers began to spin rapidly, giving one last burst of acceleration to the doomed War Behemoth. Hoffmann stared intently at Amiens through the bridge window, continuously adjusting the course with the helm, steering the airship toward an area that was clearly the Magic Crystal Cannon position in the South City.
Having done all this, he lunged to another station, turned on the amplifier, and let out his final, loudest roar.
"Long live the Saxon Empire!"
His voice, amplified by the airship's speakers, echoed over the entire Amiens battlefield, clearly reaching the ears of every Saxon and Britannian soldier. The L24 Armored Airship, carrying Captain Hoffmann's final cry, crossed the Somme River with a determined descent, ultimately crashing directly into South Amiens.
"Rumble!!!"
A deafening explosion instantly swallowed all other sounds. A massive fireball erupted, and thick smoke billowed, enveloping half of Amiens City. The L24 Armored Airship, this War Behemoth that had once soared through the blue skies, concluded its life in a heroic tragedy in South Amiens.
The immense explosion destroyed a large swath of buildings in the South City and, in the process, annihilated many of the Magic Crystal Cannons deployed in the crash zone, along with a large number of Britannian soldiers. Everyone was stunned. Aside from the continuous fire from the L29 Armored Airship, the battlefield fell into a momentary silence.
Simultaneously, on the Saxon positions on the North Front, the charge whistles were sounded.
The sharp charge whistle broke the momentary silence, its highly penetrating sound echoing across the entire North Front.
"Charge! Charge! Charge!"
"For the Empire! For the Emperor!"
Innumerable Saxon soldiers leaped out of the newly dug Trenches, surging toward the Britannian position like a tide. They held their rifles, advancing silently in sparse skirmish lines. Driven by the airship's sacrifice and final broadcast, the eyes of all Saxon soldiers burned with the desire for victory.
Morin, standing outside the first parallel Trench with the assembled Instruction Assault Battalion, was ready for battle. He had personally witnessed the crash of the L24 through his binoculars and heard Captain Hoffmann's final cry. A complex, overwhelming emotion surged in his heart—not just sorrow for a comrade's sacrifice, but an ignited, powerful desire for victory.
At that moment, the L29 Armored Airship circled overhead. Its four Twin-Barreled 203mm Main Turrets continuously spat fire, pouring shells onto the Britannian positions. The huge explosions shattered the sandbag breastworks, and the Heavy Machine Gun strongpoints were pulverized in the firelight.
Under the overwhelming fire suppression of the airship, the Britannians could not organize an effective resistance. Although the final assault trench the Saxons dug was still about 500 meters from the Britannian position, the unexpected crash of the Armored Airship prompted the various assault divisions to charge prematurely. The fire suppression of the L29 Armored Airship was immensely effective. With no Mages ascending to intercept, the airship even twisted its 'fat' hull to perform a parallel bombing run along the Britannian trenches. In the two-kilometer sector targeted by its focused attack, Saxon soldiers quickly achieved a breakthrough, surging into the Britannian position to engage in brutal close-quarters combat.
On the other side, Morin, who was intently watching the system map, also focused on the two-kilometer-long sector that the L29 Armored Airship was concentrating its fire on. He noticed a red gap violently punched into the enemy's defense line. It was like glass hit by a hammer—though mostly still intact, the main crack was rapidly widening.
"Help the strong, not the weak. Hit them where the crack is!" Morin instantly made up his mind. He immediately led the fully assembled Instruction Assault Battalion to maneuver along the newly dug Communication Trenches, heading toward the smoking breach.
The soldiers' boots thudded softly on the loose earth of the Trenches. Each man's mind held different thoughts—some fear, some excitement… The L29 Armored Airship overhead seemed to notice the movement of the ground forces. Seeing Saxon soldiers surging into the breach like a tide, the airship's commander wisely began to adjust its target.
The colossal hull slowly turned in the air. Its four turrets rotated, casting the shadow of death onto the other positions that were still stubbornly resisting. After all, the troops on the ground were already mixed together at this location. Continuing to bomb would be friendly fire.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The 203mm high-explosive shells began 'calling the roll' on individual targets. The Britannian Machine Gun positions that were still futilely firing at the charging human wave were violently blasted away one by one in firelight.
Before the charge began, Morin had already met with the four Company Commanders to plan their tasks.
"Listen up! Once inside, the 1st Company follows me to continue pushing deep! Wolff and Jonas will take the 2nd and 3rd Companies to stab at the left and right flanks! Tear the breach wider, and help the friendly forces nearby!"
"Steiner, you take the 4th Company and Battalion Headquarters—you have the toughest job! You must firmly hold this breach! No matter how many counterattacks the Britannians launch, you must not let them seal this gap!"
"Yes, Battalion Commander!" The four Company Commanders responded without hesitation.
"And!" Morin added one last instruction: "We do not have radio communication! Once inside, you are on your own! Once you breach the defense line and consolidate the position, do not stop! Coordinate with the friendly forces around you. Our one and only goal is the Somme River! Find a way to rush to the riverbank! If you can capture a bridge, great. If not, you must at least delay them and prevent them from blowing up the bridges!"
This tactical approach was the essence of 'mission-type command,' which the Saxon Army greatly valued. Morin only dictated the final strategic objective; how it was accomplished was left entirely to the frontline commanders' discretion. This was both an act of trust in their abilities and a test of their competency.
As the Instruction Assault Battalion plunged into the Britannian defense breach, the four companies immediately split off as if they had drilled the move countless times. Wolff and Jonas led their respective companies to assault the still-resisting Britannian defenders on the left and right flanks. The intense automatic fire instantly pinned down the Britannian defenders. What began as a breakthrough at a single point rapidly expanded into an entire front line.
Morin then led Klaus and the 1st Company soldiers, stepping over burning planks and enemy corpses, plunging headfirst toward the direction of Amiens City without looking back.
(End of this Chapter)