Northwest of the southern foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, Transylvania.
Scattered across this land belonging to the Austro-Hungarian Empire were villages and pastures of varying sizes.
For the ordinary people who had lived here for generations, the biggest thing they had ever seen in their lives was nothing more than an avalanche tumbling down from the mountain peaks in winter.
But these past few days were different.
In several villages, herdsmen driving their flocks up the slopes all stopped in their tracks simultaneously, craning their necks to look at the sky.
A massive, dark behemoth was slowly moving over from the northwestern horizon.
The sides of its gas envelope bore the Black Eagle insignia of the Saxon Empire, gleaming with a metallic luster in the afternoon sun.
The low-frequency roar of twelve internal combustion engines pierced through the clouds, vibrating so intensely that laundry hung out to dry by several households in the village was shaking.
"Holy Mother Mary..."
An elderly shepherd dropped his crook and fell to his knees on the spot.
A clearly more knowledgeable young man beside him hurriedly pulled the old man up, shouting that it was a Saxon airship, not some divine punishment from heaven.
But the old man's legs were still weak.
You couldn't blame him. The sheer scale of the L15 armored airship was right there—with a total length of 320 meters, the shadow it cast from the sky could cover almost an entire village.
Inside the airship's bridge, the atmosphere was vastly different from the shock of the herdsmen outside; it was much more stifling.
The deep roar of the multiple internal combustion engines and the hum of the magitech core transmitted through the keel structure to every corner of the bridge, keeping the entire space perpetually shrouded in a uniform layer of noise.
Compared to later models designed from the ground up for military purposes, this L15, converted from a cargo airship, lacked significantly in comfort.
The seats in the bridge were still the original hard seats of the cargo version; sitting on them for too long made one's rear end ache.
The layout of the instrument panel also bore the marks of a rushed job. Several newly installed sets of reading dials were embedded in locations originally meant for cargo weight displays.
Lieutenant Colonel Andreas, the airship captain, sat in his seat. From time to time, he raised his binoculars, peering through the semi-panoramic, transparent viewing windows at the front of the bridge to check the mountainous terrain below.
When he put the binoculars down, his fingers tapped lightly on his knee twice.
The helmsman beside him shot him a glance, then quickly turned his head back.
Andreas reached out and picked up the voice tube fixed to the armrest of his seat, twisting it to the chart room's circuit.
"Chief Aviation Officer, routine report."
The clear voice of the Chief Aviation Officer soon came through the brass tube:
"Current altitude 1,500 meters, stable... Outside temperature 6 degrees, wind speed 15 knots, due west wind... Hull attitude is stable, no signs of roll or drift."
"Magitech core output is stable at 40%, the new cooling unit is operating normally, power output of radiant crystal internal combustion engines 1 through 12 is normal... Full hull keel stress is within safe limits."
The Chief Aviation Officer paused, then added:
"Captain, based on our current heading and speed, estimated arrival at the destination is in 30 minutes."
Andreas nodded—though the person on the other end couldn't see him nod.
He switched the brass tube to another circuit, contacting the hemispherical observation post below the airship and the open-air observation post directly above the gas envelope.
"Lower observation, no anomalies in visual range."
"Upper observation, no anomalies in visual range. The rain clouds in the mountainous area ahead are dissipating... Awaiting final observation results from the meteorological team!"
The reports from the two observation posts allowed Andreas to quietly let out a breath, and his entire body relaxed slightly in the hard seat.
Executive Officer Grigor walked over from the rear of the bridge, stopped beside him, and spoke in a hushed voice:
"Captain, should I have the orderly prepare something to drink for you? You look... a bit tense."
Andreas shot him a glance.
"It's not exactly tension."
He reached back to rub the nape of his neck.
"It's mainly that the L15 just finished its modifications, and this is its first deployment as a military vehicle... I'm just exercising a bit of extra caution, that's all."
Grigor smiled and changed the subject: "The allied force we are coordinating with this time is the Kampfgruppe commanded by Colonel Friedrich von Morin."
"I've read the battle reports on that colonel's combat record. How should I put it... Anyway, every unit that has coordinated with him so far has been racking up merits rapidly."
"That's not what I'm worried about, Grigor..."
He turned to look at his Executive Officer and finally voiced his concerns.
"Colonel Morin indeed has a brilliant combat record, but I've heard his tactical style is extremely bold, one could even say radical."
"Our L15 airship is too large, and its maneuverability... If he asks us to execute assault missions that exceed its design limits, it will be a disaster for the entire crew."
After hearing this, the Executive Officer thought for a moment before offering comfort:
"Sir, the situation is different now."
"Colonel Morin previously only commanded a regiment-sized instruction unit on the Western Front. Now he's commanding a massive Kampfgruppe of tens of thousands of men."
"The lives of tens of thousands of soldiers are in his hands, and this is such a critical Balkan strategic operation. He will definitely be much steadier."
The Executive Officer patted the railing, his tone very certain.
"The higher the position, the greater the responsibility. Colonel Morin can't possibly lead his troops to take risks like he did before."
Andreas looked at the increasingly clear outline of the mountain range outside the window and let out a long sigh.
"I hope so..."
The Air Force lieutenant colonel's thoughts drifted back to the afternoon before their departure.
He was conducting final checks in the airship's hangar when an officer leaning on a cane suddenly appeared at the door.
Colonel Schneider.
This Air Force hero who had engaged the Eiffel Tower head-on in the skies over Paris, was blasted down by the Tower Spirit's enhanced chain lightning, yet miraculously returned alive, had now retired to the second line due to his injuries to focus on Air Force theoretical research.
But within the entire Saxon Imperial Air Force, whenever the name Schneider was mentioned, no one failed to express their admiration.
Andreas was one class below Schneider at the Air Force Academy, so the two shared a bit of camaraderie as fellow alumni.
Therefore, the fact that Schneider, who had already become a high-ranking member of the Imperial Air Force, personally came to see him off had truly flattered him for quite a while.
However, what Schneider said after the pleasantries turned Andreas's flattery into a different emotion altogether.
"This man, Colonel Morin, possesses an advanced understanding of aerial power... Regarding air-ground combat coordination, you'll find his ideas are far more radical than those of the folks at the Army General Staff."
"You must be prepared. He might ask you and your airship to do things you've never even considered before."
Schneider patted his shoulder.
"But rest assured, although that man is radical, he's not a madman... at least not yet."
Andreas's response at the time was a dry nod.
Bringing his thoughts back to the present, sitting in the bridge of the L15, looking at the approaching outline of the Carpathian Mountains, Schneider's last sentence repeated over and over in his mind.
"Not a madman... at least not yet."
Was that a compliment or a scare tactic?
Andreas decided to stop thinking about it and picked his binoculars back up.
About twenty minutes later, the altitude of the L15 armored airship had descended to 800 meters.
But because the ground elevation in this area near the Carpathian Mountains was already over 500 meters, the airship was actually less than 300 meters from the ground.
The atmosphere in the bridge suddenly tightened.
Flying in a mountainous area was completely different from flying over a plain—turbulent air currents surging up from the gorges could smack the gas envelope at any moment, and the approaching mountain walls on both sides drastically reduced the helmsman's operational space.
Andreas stood up, walked behind the helmsman, and rested his hands on the railing at the edge of the control station.
"Maintain course, watch for crosswinds."
"Understood."
As the distance closed, the voice of the observer in the hemispherical observation post below suddenly came through the brass voice tube.
"Bridge! Visual contact with friendly ground markings! I repeat—visual contact with friendly ground markings!"
Hearing this, Lieutenant Colonel Andreas quickly walked to the viewing window and raised his binoculars to look down. Sure enough, in a cleared open area, he could see massive guiding symbols laid out with white lime.
Beside the symbols, numerous figures were waving signal flags.
"Ship-wide broadcast," Andreas nodded to the communications soldier.
After the communications soldier activated the ship-wide broadcast system, Andreas picked up the microphone.
"All hands, attention. This ship is about to enter landing procedures! All departments take your positions according to protocol. Cargo bay team, prepare for release operations!"
He repeated it once, cut the broadcast, and turned to face the helmsman.
"Alright, begin the descent. Keep it steady!"
"Yes, sir!"
The helmsman pulled back the main engine telegraph. The paired receiver in the engine room, influenced by the new electrical wiring, also moved its pointer to the corresponding position.
Soon, the soldiers in the engine room began operating various equipment to reduce the power of the internal combustion engines, which served as the primary propulsion, further decreasing the L15 armored airship's speed.
And as the helmsman pulled the "Altitude Telegraph" on the other side of the helm to the "Descend" position, the technicians in the magitech core compartment also began adjusting the auxiliary elevation units upon receiving the signal.
The roar of the twelve internal combustion engines became much more muffled, and the output of the magitech core was precisely adjusted under the command of the Chief Aviation Officer—release valves, ballast water, piston thrust vectors...
The simultaneous operation of these three systems allowed this 320-meter behemoth to maintain a relatively stable descent attitude amidst the complex air currents of the mountainous region.
Andreas stared intently at the numbers ticking on the altimeter.
500 meters... 400 meters... 300 meters...
Through the viewing windows outside the bridge, the trees and rocks on the mountain slopes were already clearly discernible.
"200 meters."
The Chief Aviation Officer's voice came through the brass tube, his tone steady but his speaking pace noticeably faster.
"100 meters."
"Approaching 50-meter safety limit."
Andreas gripped the railing tightly and ordered loudly:
"Open cargo bay, deploy the release operations team!"
"Helmsman, maintain ship-wide balance!"
On the ground, Morin was looking up at the approaching black behemoth.
"F*cking awesome... this thing is too exaggerated..."
Even though he had seen many armored airships, he was still shocked by the scale of the L15, especially with this oppressive presence bearing down on them.
"This thing is more than just a little bigger than those armored airships we coordinated with on the Western Front, right?"
Morin tilted his head, muttering to Kleist beside him.
Kleist was also looking up, his neck almost aching from the strain. Hearing Morin's words, he nodded.
"According to the information relayed from the rear, the L15 was converted from a cargo model... The volume of cargo airships is inherently much larger than combat airships, and it didn't shrink after conversion... Instead, it became heavier due to the addition of extra armor plates and weapon systems."
As Kleist spoke, Morin also glanced at the system's [Information] interface.
The entry regarding this airship had already refreshed.
[L15 "Lilienthal" Class Armored Transport Assault Airship]
[An experimental unit converted from a cargo airship. Total length 320 meters, maximum payload 1800 tons, service ceiling 6500 meters, maximum speed over 5000 meters altitude is 125 km/h.]
[The strength of the entire ship's keel and gas envelope has been enhanced. Equipped with new magitech cores and internal combustion engines. The cargo bay has been fitted with securing structures suitable for Armored Knights, as well as transfer and deployment devices.]
[In terms of defense, besides the installation of extra armor plates, spell shields can also be constructed through the magitech core and the ship-wide magitech circuits.]
[In terms of attack and self-defense, 8 twin-linked 7.92mm MG08 machine gun turrets and 6 twin-linked 20mm Becker autocannons have been installed on the underside and top of the hull.]
Among all these data points, the first thing Morin noticed was the payload capacity.
A f*cking 1800 tons. This was the truly game-changing data point...
For an aerial unit to possess this level of carrying capacity was impossible in the world before his transmigration... But in this world enhanced by magic, it had actually been realized.
Although the L15 lacked the terrifying ground-bombing firepower of other specialized combat airships, as long as its defenses held, this thing could drop Armored Knights and infantry directly from the sky into designated positions.
"The Armored Knights are finally getting wings..."
Morin couldn't help but sigh in admiration.
Kleist beside him raised a puzzled eyebrow: "Commander, what did you just say?"
"Nothing, just talking to myself."
While they were talking, the L15 had descended to its 50-meter limit. The massive hull almost completely blocked out the sky above them.
The valley wind squeezed out from the edges of the airship's gas envelope, blowing the tents and flags on the ground so hard they shook violently.
The people standing below unconsciously bent over, and a few unsteady soldiers even stumbled back several steps.
"Heh."
On the other side, Paulus took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes which were stinging from the wind. "Having this thing hovering overhead is somewhat..."
"Feels a bit like the ceiling is going to collapse?" Morin finished the sentence for him.
"Uh... pretty much, Commander."
As they spoke, the hatch at the bottom of the airship's cargo bay slowly opened.
More than a dozen ropes were lowered first, followed quickly by over thirty people carrying tool bags, nimbly fast-roping down to the ground.
These people wore uniform dark gray overalls, their tool bags strapped tightly to their backs, their movements clean and crisp.
The middle-aged technician in the lead landed, quickly unhooked a quick-release buckle from the rope, and jogged toward the pre-marked operations area.
The others followed suit. The entire process was highly trained, with no superfluous movements.
After the airship retracted the ropes, steel cables began lowering a massive amount of prefabricated metal building materials from the cargo bay.
These items had clearly been pre-cut and numbered according to standard parts, with the corresponding installation position code painted on each piece.
Without Morin needing to issue any further orders, the Kampfgruppe engineers, who had received assistance directives in advance, were already waiting nearby in pre-assigned groups.
When a technician from the airship waved to them, these burly combat engineers immediately jogged forward to coordinate with the airship technicians and begin work.
Behind the engineers, the three Armored Knights led by Ludwig also strode forward.
Currently, the front ends of the mechanical arms of these steel giants—the bionic hands mimicking human hand structures—had been replaced with more durable pincer designs.
Metal struts, load-bearing base plates, anchoring stakes—various components began to rapidly assemble and take shape under the technicians' direction and the physical labor of the engineers and Armored Knights.
Morin stood aside and watched for a while, finding the design of this field maintenance platform quite ingenious.
All components were modularized, and the connection methods were simplified. Even engineers encountering it for the first time only needed to follow the codes to install them.
"This also means the choice of forward maintenance bases for armored airships has become much more flexible... Isn't this just a flying Mobile Construction Vehicle (MCV)?" This thought couldn't help but flash through Morin's mind.
Around 3:30 PM, the field maintenance platform for the temporary docking of the armored airship was finally completed.
The airship technicians checked all connection points and anchoring stakes, then signaled confirmation to the airship above using signal flags.
The L15 armored airship then breached its 50-meter limit, continuing to descend slowly.
This process was more nerve-wracking than any previous phase.
The 300-plus-meter behemoth pressed down bit by bit at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye.
With every meter it lowered, the newly installed armor plates and weapon turrets beneath the hull became clearer to those on the ground.
Technicians operated the mechanical steel cable winches on the maintenance platform, standing by at various positions, ready to secure the airship at any moment.
"Ten meters."
"Five meters."
"Contact!"
As the load-bearing structure at the bottom of the airship docked with the connection points on the platform, the technicians almost simultaneously tightened and locked the cables.
The entire platform emitted a muffled sound of metal clashing. The anchoring stakes were pulled slightly bent, but ultimately held steady.
And so, the L15 armored airship came to a stop in a valley clearing at the southern foothills of the Carpathian Mountains.
The surrounding Saxon soldiers and Austro-Hungarian mountain troops watched in silence for two or three seconds, then almost simultaneously erupted into cheers and whistles.
Although the vast majority of these soldiers were unclear about the specific purpose and modification details of this airship...
Just seeing such a behemoth land safely in their own camp automatically brought up that confidence of "we have a superweapon on our side."
Morin didn't join the cheering, but the corner of his mouth ticked up slightly—he restrained himself because he noticed Manstein looking at him from the side.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just thought it was rare to see you smile, Commander."
"Major Erich... may I ask if your fire preparation plan is finished?"
Manstein turned and left extremely briskly.
However, after taking a few steps, Manstein turned back.
"Commander, since the airship is here... can we consider using it as an observation platform for aerial artillery spotting? Our artillery observation conditions in the mountains are too poor, but if the airship hovers overhead..."
"I was thinking the exact same thing~"
Morin interrupted him, thought for a moment, and added:
"But this needs to be discussed with the Captain. I'll go talk to him in a bit... Grab Paulus and have him write this requirement into the coordination plan."
"Understood."
Paulus: "Eh... why am I involved in this?"
Manstein: "Let's go, let's go~"
Watching the retreating backs of Manstein and Paulus, Morin turned back to look at the L15, now firmly docked on the platform.
The airship's cargo bay hatch opened again. This time, it wasn't technicians who emerged, but a group of officers wearing airship crew uniforms.
The leading officer, holding the rank of lieutenant colonel, walked to the edge of the platform, rested his hands on the railing to survey the situation on the ground, and then walked down the newly erected gangway.
He stopped five or six paces away from Morin and snapped a salute.
"Saxon Imperial Air Force L15 Armored Transport Assault Airship Captain, Lieutenant Colonel Andreas! Reporting for duty to support the operations of the 'Morin Kampfgruppe'!"
Morin returned the salute.
"Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Colonel Andreas... How long was the flight?"
"From departure to now, including a resupply stop, it's been almost nine hours."
Andreas's tone was very formal, but Morin noticed that as he spoke, his gaze rapidly swept over the surrounding environment—the valley, the cluster of tents, the distant mountain range shrouded in rain and mist.
This was a cautious man.
Morin expressed satisfaction with this.
"Lieutenant Colonel, I've already had logistics prepare food and accommodations for your entire crew. Settle in first... But I'd like to chat with you briefly about the upcoming operational arrangements in advance. Is that convenient?"
Andreas originally thought the other party would let him rest first before discussing official business, so he was slightly taken aback.
"Anytime, Commander."
"Alright then, follow me."
On the way to the command tent with Morin, Andreas finally couldn't hold back.
"Colonel Morin... forgive me for asking presumptuously."
"It's fine, ask whatever you want."
"Colonel Schneider once told me that you have many... rather advanced ideas regarding air-ground coordination."
Andreas carefully chose his words.
"So I wanted to know in advance, how do you plan to use my airship?"
Morin looked back at him and smiled.
"What else did that guy Schneider say? Did he say I'm a madman? Come to think of it, I haven't gone to grab a drink with him since the Battle of Paris."
Andreas's expression instantly became subtle.
"Colonel Schneider said... at least not yet."
"Ha," Morin was amused. "Don't worry, I won't make your airship ram into a mountain."
After entering the command tent, Morin spread out the map and pointed to the location of the Predeal Pass.
"Simply put, I need your L15 to do three things."
"First, act as an aerial artillery spotting platform... The mountain terrain severely limits our artillery's observation conditions. Your airship hovering overhead can provide real-time impact corrections for the artillery."
"Second, transport supplies. There are some locations on the mountain where vehicles can't reach, and even mules struggle. But with your airship, everything becomes easy."
Andreas nodded as he listened. Both of these requests were within his expectations and not out of line.
"And the third?"
By this time, the two had walked up to the map. Morin brought Lieutenant Colonel Andreas over and tapped the location of the pass with his finger.
"When the time is ripe... I need the airship to drop me and the Armored Knights directly behind the Romanians' defense line from the air."
Andreas opened his mouth. The tent was silent for several seconds.
The Air Force lieutenant colonel couldn't help but recall his Executive Officer's comforting words half an hour ago: "The higher the position, the greater the responsibility. Colonel Morin can't possibly lead his troops to take risks like he did before."
Bullshit, isn't this even riskier?!
Predeal Pass, Romanian Defender Positions.
The heavy morning rain had finally stopped, but the mud in the positions hadn't dried yet.
The accumulated water in the tunnels rose over the ankles. Several Romanian soldiers were desperately bailing it out with shovels and wooden buckets, cursing under their breath.
In the command bunker at the highest point of the pass, Lieutenant Colonel Mihai Popescu, acting commander of the 3rd Border Guard Regiment, was leaning against the observation slit, looking down the mountain with binoculars.
The air after the rain was exceptionally clear. The situation in the valley clearing six kilometers away could barely be made out through the binoculars.
"My God..."
When Lieutenant Colonel Popescu lowered his binoculars, his fingers were trembling.
The adjutant beside him leaned in: "Commander, what's wrong?"
Lieutenant Colonel Popescu didn't speak, handing the binoculars to him.
The adjutant took the binoculars and looked in the direction the commander pointed. A few seconds later, his face also turned pale.
"Is that... a Saxon armored airship?"
"Mhmm~"
Lieutenant Colonel Popescu pulled back from the observation slit and leaned against the dirt wall of the bunker. He pulled a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, striking three matches before finally lighting it.
"Did you see clearly how big it is? That thing almost fills that valley!"
The adjutant raised the binoculars to look again, his voice somewhat tight: "It has stopped... It seems to have landed on the ground, but the surrounding situation is too far away to see clearly."
"Mhmm." Popescu took a drag on his cigarette, exhaling the smoke through his nose.
"Signal the artillery positions immediately. Have them assess if they can reach that location."
After the order was relayed, the reply came quickly, but it wasn't what Popescu wanted to hear.
"Commander, the artillery positions have replied... The fields of fire from all preset emplacements cannot cover the airship's location."
Popescu almost dropped his cigarette.
"Not a single one can hit it?"
"It's not a matter of range, it's the field of fire."
The sergeant responsible for communications explained:
"There are too few positions on our mountain where we can set up artillery. The firing angles of all positions are blocked by the ridges and rock faces in front of us... Unless we drag the guns to the cliff edge on the other side, but that location can't support heavy artillery, and for mountain guns, this distance is a bit much."
Popescu closed his eyes, took one last drag on his cigarette, and crushed the butt against the dirt wall.
He hadn't considered pulling the artillery down the mountain to fire.
There were indeed suitable artillery positions at several locations below the pass, and their fields of fire could cover the airship's landing zone.
But the problem was that the enemy's vanguard was stationed right at the foot of the mountain.
Although the first wave of morning attacks had been repulsed, the opponent's forces were sitting right there. They hadn't withdrawn; they were merely resting.
Sending precious artillery down the mountain under these circumstances would be a futile and wasteful gesture.
"Hold our ground."
Popescu finally made a decision.
"Strengthen surveillance in all directions below the mountain. Have all companies redistribute ammunition and drinking water... Drain the water from the tunnels and prepare for the enemy's next wave of attacks."
He paused, then looked at the communications sergeant.
"Send another telegram to Brigade Headquarters."
"What should I write?"
Popescu considered his phrasing before speaking:
"A massive enemy armored airship has landed approximately six kilometers in front of our position... The airship's size far exceeds any model in previous battle reports, suspected to be a new type of transport assault vehicle."
"With the current firepower configuration of the pass defenders, we cannot pose a threat to it."
"Request superiors send reinforcements of heavy artillery and long-range strike capabilities as soon as possible."
"If reinforcements cannot arrive in time... please ask superiors to consider contingency plans for after the fall of the Predeal Pass."
When the adjutant heard the last sentence, his expression changed.
"Commander, writing it like this... won't it be too inauspicious?"
"Inauspicious?" Popescu twitched his lips; the expression looked like a smile, but wasn't.
"In the battle this morning, we used mountain blasting to smash their vanguard in the face. And the result? Their commander immediately called a halt to the attack and didn't continue the charge. This indicates the commander has been replaced this time..."
"A commander whose first reaction after encountering an ambush is not to throw lives away, but to calmly pull the troops back... do you think he will give us the same opportunity during his next attack?"