She changed Europe

Page 51

"It doesn't matter. Just lay down your weapons and surrender to the enemy. After the war, you will return to your hometown through the prisoner exchange." Wars in this era were still "gentlemen's" wars. Regarding the issue of prisoners of war, there was the Geneva Convention of 1864, and there were also the political needs of various countries. Killing prisoners was rare, and concentration camps in World War II were non-existent.

Being captured actually shows that the French or Italian army has begun to take them seriously. This not only reflects their achievements, but also distracts them and forces them to constantly consider logistical issues.

"Of course, if any of you are killed, your family will receive not only the pension from the Imperial government, but also an additional personal consolation payment from me. This money will continue until your next generation of direct relatives comes of age, or until the death of your last direct relative. If you are an orphan, this money will be donated to the orphanage you once attended." Gisela's words completely dispelled the last trace of concern among the soldiers present.

"So ladies and gentlemen, take up arms and fight for the Empire without hesitation! Let the enemy cower and tremble amidst the explosions, and let the glory of the Empire illuminate the entire Apennine Peninsula!" Gisela raised his hand, his tone impassioned and filled with unwavering confidence.

"Long live the Empire! Long live Princess Gisela!" Although there were only a hundred people in the open space, they were like a thousand troops.

Several days later, at 4 a.m. on August 11, Gisela, who had received a reconnaissance report from the garrison in Obira the day before, ordered his artillery to bombard several military camps of the Kingdom of Sardinia.

Countless lights rose simultaneously in the darkness, accompanied by the whistling sound of flying shells. This was a greeting from the god of war. In an instant, many Italian soldiers were killed in the deafening explosions while they were still asleep.

Like the Danes, the Italians had never witnessed such a nighttime artillery barrage. Awakened from their sleep, they scurried around the camp like a swarm of headless flies.

The camp caught fire, so they went to put it out. Some were injured, so they went to rescue them. As a result, those who fought the fire were burned, while those who rescued were hit by artillery shells. The soldiers, disheveled, picked up their guns and observed with their naked eyes that apart from the camp illuminated by torches, the surrounding area was a vast, dark plain.

The pious cried out to God, the atheists cursed wildly, but the imperial artillery felt nothing of it. Another round of shells was loaded, and the industrious imperial artillery, under the command of their commander, launched a new round of bombardment.

Just as the Italians were praying in confusion and helplessness, countless lights, like stars, rose again on the horizon, and at that moment most of the soldiers were in utter despair.

"Lie down!" The officers of the Kingdom of Sardinia ordered their soldiers to lie down on the spot, but soon the loud thud of heavy objects hitting the ground and the sound of explosions completely drowned out their commands, and countless soldiers met their end in a daze.

Misella hurriedly opened her tent. The loud explosion forced her to drag her tired body out of the tent to check the situation at the camp, even though she had just fallen asleep.

Perhaps because she had just woken up, she walked directly into the public wearing only a thin nightgown. Unfortunately, the soldier did not have time to appreciate the princess's graceful figure. Apart from the dutiful adjutant politely stopping her, Misella was just like any other ordinary Italian soldier at that moment.

“Report the situation,” Missera asked the adjutant, enunciating each word clearly.

"Almost all camps have been shelled to varying degrees by the Austrian army. The extent of the damage is unknown, but considering that the attack was launched at night, most soldiers were asleep and did not have time to take cover or take shelter, so the overall situation is not optimistic." The adjutant's face was calm and composed, unlike the panicked soldiers.

"Tsk, those despicable Austrians," Misella muttered, biting her thumb.

"Since it has already happened, let the soldiers minimize the losses. Have General Garth organize the troops to stand guard and observe the Austrians' further actions. The remaining soldiers can go and rescue the wounded after the shelling ends." Although Misella did not believe that the Austrians would dare to launch an attack in the middle of the night, it was necessary to be on guard.

At the same time that Misella was giving orders, Gisela's attacking forces had already completed preparations. The 1st Battalion of the 3rd Regiment of the 32nd Bohemian Division served as the vanguard of this attack, supported by the 1st Battalion of the 3rd Magic Armored Regiment. In addition to conventional weapons, Gisela had also equipped each member of this unit with a signal pistol loaded with flares.

PS1: It's Monday again QAQ

Chapter 189 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 50 Miserra's Wrath (Please Subscribe)

Night raids have always been a double-edged sword. Due to scarcity of resources in ancient times, many soldiers suffered from malnutrition and night blindness, making nighttime operations extremely risky, but also incredibly rewarding. However, with the advent of firearms, this tactic became even less popular. Low visibility at night meant that if soldiers had poor eyesight, their shots could cause serious friendly fire incidents. This led to this classic tactic in world military history being sidelined for a considerable period.

The invention of flares solved this problem well. Flares were invented in China as early as 1221 AD. However, the ancients did not realize the role of such a light-emitting object in the military field. It was not until World War I that Western countries paid close attention to this and developed various types of flares to expand the tactical reach by utilizing the night.

"Your Highness, it's time," Tifa said, glancing at the grandfather clock on the table. Unfortunately, wristwatches were still not invented, because Gisela only remembered this when she needed to set battle times.

"Alright! Let's attack!" Gisela stretched and yawned, then swayed as she spoke to Tifa. Gisela had now discovered a harsh reality: because she had become Gisela, her once-proud ability to stay up all night was gone! Now she could fall asleep with just a slight close of her eyes. To be honest, she was quite envious of Rita standing beside her, and Tifa, who was carefully reviewing the schedule.

At Gisela's command, the Imperial army launched its attack. Using the distant firelight as a guide, the Imperial troops cautiously approached the Italian positions. They adhered to the manual's training, with the magical armor leading the way, followed in columns, using the armor as cover. They chanted slogans softly to bolster their morale.

The night on the vast plains of northern Italy should have been tranquil and peaceful, with everything asleep except for the soft moonlight. But tonight, everything was different. Carmeno looked at the chaotic camp before him, feeling not only despair but also deep regret. As a native of Turin, he had always been proud to be a resident of the kingdom's capital.

Ultimately, swayed by a conscription notice and bound by loyalty to Savoy and so-called national righteousness and honor, he donned a military uniform and was sent on the train to the front lines. What was in the barracks? Nothing but tedious daily training; the suffocating, monotonous atmosphere extinguished the last vestiges of his passion.

Looking at the charred corpses on the ground and the blown-off arms, all he wanted to do now was drop his weapons, take off his uniform, and go back to Piedmont, back to Turin, back to that dilapidated little house, and hold his elderly mother in his arms and weep bitterly.

"What's that?" Cameno looked up, stood up, and stared at the moving black shadow in the distance. The magic armor made a "crunching" sound as it moved across the soft soil, causing the ground to tremble. He expertly rubbed his eyes, observed for a moment, then bent down, pressing his ear to the ground, because he couldn't see anything.

"It seems like a group of people are chanting something?" he muttered to himself. In the hellish battlefield, such sounds were as terrifying as the whispers of Satan. Run!? That was the last vestige of hesitation in his mind. The next second, a beam of light from a magic cannon instantly engulfed the area where he was, and the massive explosion and the dust it kicked up instantly swept into the Italian camp.

Countless white, firework-like objects shot into the sky, their sun-like brilliance tearing away the last vestiges of darkness. To the Italians, the attacking imperial army appeared before them as if descending from the heavens. All training manuals were forgotten in that instant; they dropped their weapons, ignored the officers' roars and attempts to stop them, and fled frantically in all directions.

"What is that!" Missera, who was commanding her troops, saw a light appear in the sky above the forward camp in the distance. A sense of unease welled up in her heart, and she had to tighten her grip on her sword.

"It seems the Austrians have launched an attack." Garth, the commander of the Ivrea army beside Misella, frowned with a serious expression.

"Where are our reserves!" Misera frowned. Although she knew that her side had just recovered from the shelling and that organizing reserves was somewhat difficult, she still had to ask this question.

“Our reserves…” General Gart took a deep breath, then took off his military cap, placed it on his chest, and said, “We have no reserves.” The attack was sudden; it would be strange if we could immediately muster a force.

“But I have a suggestion: let’s abandon the forward positions and prepare for artillery fire to stop the enemy’s advance and buy time for our rear troops to regroup and rebuild the defensive line.” Garth gritted his teeth. He knew very well that this was an extremely difficult decision. He wanted to buy time for the reorganization of the main force, sacrificing the forward camps. Of course, he also prepared a round of indiscriminate artillery fire for the attacking Austrians.

The artillery barrage was not to be launched when friendly soldiers were separated from enemy soldiers, in order to reduce troop casualties; he planned to do the opposite.

"Sir Gart, are you preparing to sacrifice our soldiers?" Misella was a woman of honor and responsibility. She would not complain if her soldiers died on the way to the front, but she could not accept the decision to let them die under her own gunfire in a short time.

“Your Highness, the war has already broken out, and none of us can remain unscathed. Since our hands are already stained with blood, we shouldn’t regret or complain about the extra blood.” Gart stood ramrod straight, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

“You’re right! Sacrifice is inevitable for victory.” Misella closed her eyes, propped her head up with her hands, and looked troubled and hesitant.

"Then I'll take care of all of this." With that, Garth stamped his foot, saluted, and strode away at a brisk pace.

“Miss Garibaldi, what would you do if you were here?” Misera shook her head and roughly grabbed her light green hair with both hands.

“Giselle Louise Marie… It’s you again. It was you in Vienna, and it’s you again this time. I’d like to see what kind of enemy you really are.” Just thinking about her opponent made Missella tighten her grip on her sword.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 190 Irises Wither in the Alps: Capter 51 The Italians Fight Back (Seeking Votes)

The Imperial army's offensive was fierce. Hundreds of soldiers from the First Battalion, under the cover of magical armor, easily broke through the hastily organized defensive line of the Sardinian Kingdom's army.

In particular, the magic armor that accompanied infantry as they charged into enemy lines played a significant role.

"Liss, watch your right. There's a six-pounder cannon over there." A stern female voice reached the ears of Liss, a Level 1 mage piloting a mage armor. Although his mage armor moved slowly, every movement it made was enough to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy.

"Understood, Miss." The young man named Lis ruffled his gray curly hair with a hint of helplessness, then activated his magic-powered armor and aimed at the 6-pound cannon. As the charge was complete, he could clearly see the trembling Italian soldiers through the observation port.

"May the Lord forgive." The words, which sounded like a prayer, were spoken, followed by a huge explosion. In an instant, the Italian soldiers were reduced to ashes in the artillery fire.

"Liss, have you got it sorted out? If you have, then..." The voice on the magic communication channel was urgent, clearly indicating that their captain was engaged in battle with the Italian magic armor.

"Hey! Miss, stop! Stop! This isn't the time for auspicious words!" Lis stretched his arms and looked in the direction of his captain, who was facing two magical armors from the Kingdom of Sardinia all by himself.

"What are you thinking about now?" As soon as Lis finished speaking, his captain frowned and questioned the young man with the erratic mind in front of him in an annoyed manner.

"I just heard Her Highness say that you shouldn't make any promises or set flags on the battlefield!" The girl was speechless at Lis's words. Although she found them nonsensical, she didn't dare to criticize him for making a fuss, since it was the princess's words.

Just as the girl was distracted by those words, Lis decisively drove his armor over and blocked the attack from her blind spot.

"Liss, didn't I tell you not to come over?!" The girl, realizing what had happened, frowned and asked through the magic communication.

“Young lady, it is my duty as a knight to protect a noble lady.” Liss was quite frank and sincere about this.

Because the young lady captain Lis mentioned was named Sharot, as the captain of the first battalion of the Third Magic Armored Regiment, she was not only a first-level magic user, but also the only daughter of a noble marquis.

To be honest, because Sharon became the captain through her own abilities, she hates it when people call her "Miss." This title is like denying her own efforts and telling others that she got the position because of her family background.

But she didn't care at all that Lis called her that. Not only because Lis was her classmate at the magic academy, but also because he was a commoner magic user, unlike those born into nobility. He had worked his way up step by step through his own hard work, and those who strive naturally resonate with others who strive as well. Therefore, Sharon naturally wouldn't dislike such an ambitious classmate, friend, or even…

"Hmph! Completely unnecessary!" the girl scoffed.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault!" Lis knew his captain's personality very well, so he smoothly came up with a way out for him. So, while laughing and joking in the magic communication, he turned around and blasted the opponent's magic armor to pieces with a single shot. At the same time, Shanot, whose pressure had been relieved, also easily destroyed another magic armor.

“Miss, of course, it wouldn’t be impossible if you agreed to go on a date with me after the war!” Lis added, using a feigned retreat as a tactic to advance. For him, this might be his greatest pleasure.

"Get out of here! Lis! It was the enemy's biggest mistake that you weren't hit by the artillery fire!" Shanot bit her lip and replied with a dissatisfied look. Of course, the two people in their respective cockpits couldn't see each other's expressions.

"Ahem! Sorry to interrupt your 'romance,' please have each squad take stock of your losses." Just then, a magnetic male voice broke into their magical communication. It was more like a connection than an intrusion, because Lis and Shanot's public chat was truly "excessive," but since their conversation was barely "combat-related," the squad leader didn't choose to stop them.

"Our battalion suffered no losses, and all nine magic armors are still intact..." Shanot hadn't finished speaking when she noticed countless points of light flying towards them from the sky not far away.

"What happened to the nine magic armors?!" The squadron leader's tone became somewhat uneasy, a sense of unease rising in his heart, forcing him to tighten his grip on the binoculars on his chest.

"It's a cannonball!!!!!!!!! Take cover!" Shanot roared hoarsely! At this moment, this usually dignified and virtuous young lady, this gentle and soft-spoken woman, let out a roar she had never uttered before.

"What...what a joke, there are still their soldiers on the position." The regimental commander picked up his binoculars, but the response he received was no longer from his beautiful subordinate, but from the whooshing sound of heavy objects falling and the deafening explosions.

At this moment, the lonely, shining flare in the sky illuminated the front lines of the Sardinian army, making the terrifying explosions and the dust they kicked up clearly visible to both sides' soldiers.

Misella, on the Italian home field, closed her eyes as she watched the explosion in the distance; this moment became an indelible stain on her life.

Gisela, who was still half asleep, was awakened by the unexpected shelling.

She suddenly opened her eyes, stood up, and walked out of the tent. She looked at the distant position that was already engulfed in flames. The Italians had actually started shelling without regard for the safety of their own soldiers...

"She's a formidable character." It has to be admitted that this Italian princess is quite ruthless, which has caused some minor trouble for her plans, though only minor trouble.

"Project Tifa enters its second phase, with the flanks launching a general offensive!" Gisela raised his Saint Stephen's Sword and pointed the tip at the map.

"Let General Austin lead all the troops in the city to break out to the northeast and then strike directly at the Italian rear." If successful, this siege could potentially turn into a successful annihilation battle. In Gisela's eyes, whether the city of Obira falls or not is irrelevant; this battle is not a disadvantageous one of 30,000 versus 40,000, but a fair contest of 40,000 versus 40,000.

The once stagnant plains were now in complete uproar, for under this dark curtain, both sides had committed nearly 100,000 troops.

The 57th Bohemian Division and the 7th Lombard Brigade launched an attack from the left flank, supported by the remaining magical armor of the 3rd Magic Armored Regiment; the 64th Bohemian Division and the 11th and 12th Lombard Brigades launched an attack from the right flank, supported by the 4th Magic Armored Regiment; the 32nd Bohemian Division served as a reserve force, ready to be deployed at any time.

The Imperial Defense Force, under the jurisdiction of Auston, also mobilized its remaining nearly 10,000 troops from within the city of Obira to launch an attack on the Sardinian army outside the city.

PS1: I've been a bit busy lately preparing for the company's annual party QAQ

Chapter 191 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 52 Morale Shakes (Seeking Votes)

At this time, the army of the Kingdom of Sardinia —

“Your Highness, our army is currently in danger of being surrounded. We should recall the feint attack force southwest of Obira to assist the main force in breaking through,” a general suggested.

"No! We must not retreat! We must hold off the Austrians. Just hold on for three more days! Three days at most! French reinforcements will arrive, and then we will take Aubila in one fell swoop and wipe out this Austrian army."

“Wake up, Lord Reinhardt! At this rate, we can’t hold out for three more days. We’re surrounded on three sides, our supplies from Novara have been cut off, and our supplies from Piedmont can’t be delivered to the front lines across the Cecily River because of Obira’s presence.” The speaker was an elderly soldier.

"What do you think, Lord Gat?" the generals asked the commander of the Ivrea army, who was the most influential figure in the army.

"His Highness originally intended to use the 10,000 troops in the southwest to contain the defending forces. Since the enemy doesn't value Aubila, then this city is worthless to them. They don't want it, but we do! Therefore, I believe the troops in the southwest should continue the siege and try to take Aubila. As for our besieged troops, we should continue to hold them off until the French reinforcements arrive." Garth pointed to the map with his hand as he spoke, after all, in his view, this was also a form of containment.

"Your Highness!" After expressing his opinion, Garth and the other generals all turned their gazes to the princess, who had her back to them. As the future monarch and commander of this army, the final tactical decisions made by the troops all required her approval before they could be implemented. Unfortunately, Misera did not respond to their calls at this moment.

"Your Highness!" the generals called out again.

Misella took a deep breath and turned to look at her ministers.

"I'm leaving all the military affairs to you, Secretary Gart." Misella took off his sword and gently placed it on the table.

"What does Your Highness mean by this..." For Gart and the other generals, they were suddenly at a loss as to what the princess was trying to do. If it were just a tantrum, it would be relatively easy to resolve by admitting defeat, but in their memory, Princess Misella was clearly not the kind of willful person, which left them completely baffled.

"I want to go and meet that Austrian princess."

“But Your Highness, you are the commander of the army…” General Gart tried to object.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Missera said succinctly, her eyes flashing with determination.

"In that case, your subject will obey Your Majesty's command." The contest between demon wielders is beyond the control of ordinary people, and since Your Highness has made this choice, these generals cannot say anything more.

"Then I wish Your Highness a great victory, and please do not underestimate the young Austrian princess."

"I know she defeated Alexandra's formidable enemy, and I will be on high alert. I am handing over command to you to avoid any unforeseen circumstances, so please, Lord Garth and the generals of the kingdoms, do not worry." Interestingly, this kind of thing happened in Europe. If it happened in ancient China, at this critical juncture, the leader would suddenly say that he is handing over command of the army to you, which would be like Liu Bei entrusting his son to Zhuge Liang in Baidi City. Garth, a mere warrior, could not compare with that sage.

"Anna! Is my magic armor ready?" Misella casually tossed her cloak and walked straight out of the tent.

"It can be used anytime."

"Alright!" Just then, after a night of fierce fighting, the sky began to lighten again, and the sunlight shattered the darkness. For Misella, all the unease of the night vanished instantly.

This is a good sign, she told herself.

The imperial artillery roared once more, the sound even more intense and terrifying than at night. This time, they were no longer blindly bombarding in a general direction. Prior to this, professional artillery observers had roughly determined the enemy's location as soon as the Sardinian artillery began firing on the vanguard. The rising sun improved visibility, making precise measurements possible.

As the data was presented, the artillery positions of the Kingdom of Sardinia were bombarded by the Empire's shells. The Kingdom's artillerymen, who had been happily unleashing shells on the Austrian attacking forces, were thrown into chaos by the explosions and dust kicked up by the ignited open-air powder magazines, which shook the earth.

Private Angelo, stationed on the right flank of the kingdom's defenses, was in the reserves and very close to the artillery positions, less than a hundred meters away. His 17th Company of a hundred soldiers was engaged in various activities: some were organizing their equipment, some were smoking and keeping watch, and some were urinating while joking around. When the Empire's shells came flying in, no one, from officers to soldiers, realized how precise the enemy's shells were and how swift the counterattack would be.

After all, the Imperial artillery did not fire again for a long time after the night bombardment, which led many Italian officers and soldiers to mistakenly believe that the enemy had run out of shells. After all, it was normal for artillerymen to carry less ammunition in this era.

Angelo didn't realize that a new Austrian bombardment was coming until the moment the artillery powder depot and his comrade who was urinating on the ground there were blown into the air.

"Get into the trenches! Don't worry about the wounded yet." Angelo's officer lay prone on the ground, waving his arms. His green uniform was already stained gray by the swirling mud. Under the huge explosion, his shouts sounded so pale and powerless.

"They're going to fire on our artillery, so we should stay away from the artillery positions," a soldier said.

"Yes, forget about the artillery, survival is the priority!" another soldier responded.

Angelo struggled to his feet, glanced back at the ravaged artillery position, and fled in the opposite direction with his comrades. Their evasive maneuver was not inherently flawed; the reserves, already exhausted and demoralized from the previous night's raid, mistakenly believed the retreating troops at the front had caused a breakthrough on the right flank and a rout. Disregarding orders, they triggered a chain reaction. Unaware of the true situation, the soldiers shouted and surged further back into the camp.

Rumors of the army's defeat spread like a plague through the Sardinian army, creating a bizarre scene in the Italian camps: the front-line troops were still fighting bravely against the Austrians, while the reserves in the rear were already in complete chaos.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 192 Irises Wither in the Alps: A Terrible Intelligence Agency (Seeking Votes)

Despite repeated urgings from their superiors, the commander of the right-wing forces of the Kingdom of Sardinia could not get reinforcements. The commanders, led by Gat, were completely helpless against these soldiers who were more trouble than they were worth. In peacetime, they had countless ways to kill these deserters, but this was wartime, and they simply didn't have time to deal with them!

"Your Highness! Your Highness! Where is she!" An elderly general wiped the sweat from his brow. If Princess Misella could stabilize the right flank of the army, after all, the appeal of a magic user was unmatched by ordinary people.

"His Highness has already taken off." The one who answered him was Misera's former adjutant. This meticulous lady stood behind the generals, staring expressionlessly at the map between them, as if she were seriously considering a strategy. But in fact, everyone knew that this adjutant was clearly there to keep an eye on them.

Imperial military camp —

"Your Highness, according to the observers, Princess Misella de Savoy of the Kingdom of Sardinia has taken to the air." Tifa entered the tent with the report, reporting this expected information to Gisela.