"Abrit, do you think those Marleyan idiots will attack again today?"
At Grayle Fortress, a Middle Easterner soldier wearing a bowler hat and smoking a cigarette casually asked his companion beside him.
His companion was carving something into a piece of wood with a small knife.
"Heh, it doesn't matter how many come, Aliti. You should know that the Marleyans only know how to charge stupidly into our artillery fire. Most of the fortresses we lost before were taken by their Titan warriors. But Grayle Fortress isn't that easy to capture. If those Titan warriors dare to show up, the anti-Titan cannons will teach them a lesson."
Aliti grinned around his cigarette.
"That's true. Hey—is it for your daughter? You've got real skill, Abrit. We're old friends, so carve one for my son too sometime, will you? I haven't seen him in almost a year."
Abrit blew the wood shavings off his hands and looked at the nearly finished carving with satisfaction. Of course he wouldn't refuse his old friend's request.
"No problem. You can trust my craft…"
Before he could finish speaking, a metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His body suddenly lost strength, and a sharp pain exploded in his chest. Trembling, he lowered his head and saw a large patch of blood seeping through his brown military uniform.
When he raised his head, the last thing he saw was the stunned expression on his old friend Aliti's face—and the blood splashing across it.
A stray bullet had killed Abrit.
Snapping back to his senses, his companion stiffly looked down below the fortress. Vast waves of soldiers in white uniforms were charging toward them.
The Marleyans had attacked!?
"Damn it! You filthy Marleyan!!"
Enraged, Aliti rushed to his post. There, a heavy machine gun with a thick barrel sat waiting in silence. Moments later, tongues of flame burst from the cold muzzle. The machine gun roared, unleashing a storm of bullets. The impact tore through the bodies of the advancing Marleyan soldiers.
The view pulled back. Nearly a hundred heavy machine guns across Grayle Fortress opened fire simultaneously, a dense barrage blanketing the entire battlefield.
Explosions thundered endlessly, one after another, without pause.
The Middle Easterners' artillery shells poured onto the battlefield as if they cost nothing. Soon, under the devastation of cannon fire and machine-gun bullets, the charging Marleyan forces collapsed.
Marleyan soldiers clutching rifles lay trembling inside shell craters, surrounded by the severed limbs of their comrades.
But a closer look revealed something else—the soldiers charging across the battlefield were all Eldian soldiers wearing armbands. The ground was littered with Eldian corpses.
So where were the Marleyans?
The gaze shifted to the rear of the Marleyan position. There stood the true Marleyan army, rows upon rows with weapons raised, muzzles aimed forward. The weapons in their hands were superior to those equipped by the Eldian troops—the newly developed Garand Type II.
However, the muzzles of those advanced rifles were not aimed at the Middle Easterners.
They were aimed at the Eldian troops charging on Marley's behalf.
If any Eldian soldier attempted to retreat, they would be shot without hesitation.
...
At the same time, Yago, wearing a steel helmet, lay in the trench observing the situation. The Eldian Third Regiment under his command had arrived at the battlefield only yesterday and had not yet been committed to combat.
But the horrific casualties of the Eldian forces before his eyes made his heart pound. In less than half an hour, a force of several thousand had been nearly wiped out—yet they hadn't even advanced to within three hundred meters of the fortress.
In this kind of high-intensity battle, the few thousand men of the Eldian Revival Army were nowhere near enough.
Yago's brow furrowed tightly.
Beside him, Serena was also watching the battlefield. She had experienced many brutal battles before, so she could endure the sight—but the heavy losses among the Eldian forces still made her worry about what awaited the Revival Army next.
Behind Yago, several Warrior candidates—still just children—had already turned pale from the relentless explosions ringing in their ears. How could they even think about fighting? Even the oldest among them, Colt, was the same.
Only Gabi did not look as terrified as her companions, but her expression was still grim. Their Warrior candidate unit was missing someone.
Who?
Colonel Koslow—the one who had firmly insisted on sending the Warrior candidates to the front lines for training.
Where was he?
Poor Colonel Koslow, upon arriving at the front yesterday, had delivered a passionate speech to the Marleyan candidates before the position—about proving their worth, demonstrating loyalty, sacrificing themselves for Marley, and so on.
Unfortunately, he had sacrificed himself for Marley first.
The Middle Easterners had suddenly shelled the Marleyan position. A shell exploded not far from Colonel Koslow.
More than a dozen fragments pierced several centimeters into his thigh. Thus, Colonel Koslow had been carried screaming to the rear before even having dinner on his first day at the front.
Before leaving, Koslow entrusted Yago with temporarily commanding the Warrior candidates. He also subtly asked him to protect them well. Though they were here for frontline training, they were not truly meant to charge into battle with rifles on their backs. The most important purpose was to cultivate their loyalty to Marley.
Therefore, the few Warrior candidates now—including Airi Ambers, the Sea-Diving Titan—were all under Yago's command.
Gabi was full of worry about this, though her companions were clearly more frightened by the terrifying artillery fire on the battlefield.
Just as she was thinking—
Boom!!
Another explosion rang out. Udo jumped in fright, and his black-framed glasses were knocked off his face.
The glasses fell near the feet of the silver-haired Zofia. She bent down, picked them up, and handed them back to Udo.
"Udo, if this keeps up, you're going to wet your pants sooner or later."
Udo's face flushed red. He said nothing.
But he didn't notice that when Zofia handed him the glasses, her own hand was trembling slightly.
So in truth, she wasn't as calm as she sounded.
Falco shrank beside his brother Colt. When the artillery roared, Falco even squeezed his eyes shut in fear. Only after the explosions subsided somewhat did he dare to open them.
The first thing he did after opening his eyes was look toward Gabi.
She was far calmer than he was—though her expression was somewhat strange.
...
The artillery on the battlefield gradually quieted.
Yago's expression darkened.
The battlefield before them had become a living hell. Eldian corpses lay everywhere—severed limbs, countless craters from exploding shells. Eldian blood had stained the earth red.
Of the several thousand Eldian troops who had charged, nearly all were casualties. The wounded who had survived by chance lay scattered across the battlefield. In broad daylight, they could not be rescued under the enemy's watchful eyes. Only at night would there be a chance.
Those maimed soldiers could only lie where they were, wailing in pain, praying that someone would come for them after dark.
At first, more than a dozen Eldian soldiers who tried to retreat were executed by Marleyan overseer squads. Later, when the pressure became unbearable, the Marleyans stopped blocking the retreat.
After a single battle, out of thousands of Eldian soldiers, fewer than fifty returned unscathed.
Bang!
Yago slammed his fist against the trench wall. His face had never looked more grave.
The Eldian Revival Army could not be squandered like this.
Such casualties were utterly meaningless.
There had to be another way.
Otherwise, Yago might truly have no choice but to lead several thousand soldiers in open rebellion against Marley.
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
+100 chapters and support me on Patreon(.)com/Jixo