Hill 385, 1640 hours
"A decapitation strike, you say?" Marcus crossed his arms as Julius revealed his proposal to his fellow officer.
"Yes, the princess wants an end to this battle as soon as possible. We take out Cromwell and his lackeys, we disrupt their chain of command. We should expect heavy resistance once we're off the hill," Julius answered.
Lionel took a deep breath and sighed explosively. "How much resistance are we expecting, Major?" the captain inquired.
"Two brigades, maybe three, plus the ships they have floating over there." Julius gestured over to the half-dozen or so Reconquista ships that were currently stationary above the Reconquista forces arrayed before them, with the largest of them no doubt being the enemy flagship. "You think the Challengers can deal with the ships?"
Marcus squinted as he ran some calculations in his head. "I reckon we could, but there's still the ground forces for us to deal with. You really think we should push through with the plan?"
Julius blinked as he mulled over the Hussar's words. "We'll take out the ships first and eliminate their fire support; the last thing we need is enemy artillery pinning us down while their infantry and cavalry swarm us. Once that's taken care of, our armor, with Arnhem and Blenheim Companies following behind, will advance downhill under a creeping barrage from the mortars while Chindit, Dettingen, and Arroyo Companies will stay behind as a tactical reserve or in case the Reconquista attempt a flanking maneuver. Questions?"
"What about Andvari's ring? Cromwell's in possession of it, but we don't even know if he's currently using it. Do we even know what this bloke is capable of, or what the ring can do?" Christian asked.
Julius glanced at Chindit Company's commanding officer. "Only one way to find out. We kill the bastard, and we retrieve the ring. Two birds in one stone"
He took one last look at his subordinates. "Sync your watches, we'll kick things off at 1800 hours "
Tristanian Center, 1723 hours
"Hold the line! Fifty-second, hold the line!"
Steel rang against steel as the Reconquista 18th Regiment of Foot attempted to hack and slash their way through the Tristanian 52nd Infantry Regiment, even as they were whittled down by accurate musket fire coming from behind the Tristanian pike wall. Men screamed in agony as fire mages burned their opponents alive; the ground shook as earth mages summoned golems that crushed their foes underfoot; wind mages summoned razor-sharp wind spells that slashed through the Tristanians, who were held aloft by plumes of water summoned by water mages. Even with Tristanian mages doing everything they can, it wasn't enough; Reconquista artillery had reduced the Tristanian center to two-thirds of its strength while the attacking force had lost half of its men. With more Reconquista infantry regiments streaming in from behind the first line, it was only a matter of time before the Tristanians broke, and Oudinot knew it.
"The Musketeer Knights are being committed!"
Oudinot turned his head, and sure enough, he saw the colors of the Musketeer Knights as they billowed in the afternoon wind. Marching in line formation was the 1st Life Battalion, with its battalion standard flying alongside the Tristanian battle flag. He saw Agnès at the head of the formation, with her sword raised high as the musketeers marched to the tune of their units' battle hymn. Following close behind were the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th Life Battalions, 2,000 men in total.
The Musketeer Knights, despite being composed entirely of female commoners, were a highly respected unit due to their unwavering loyalty to the crown and their ferocity in combat. Time and again they have turned the tide of a battle despite sustaining heavy casualties in the process, paving the way for the rest of the army to rout their enemies. Now, as Oudinot watched, he heard his men cheer as the Musketeers started to push back the Reconquista assault.
"Make ready!" he heard Agnès shout. Immediately, the entirety of the 1st Life Battalion readied their weapons, with the remaining four battalions following a split second later.
"Present!"
The first rank took aim at the Reconquista as the latter scrambled to prepare a volley of their own.
"FIRE!"
The first rank erupted in a thunderclap as the Tristanian musketeers unleashed their fury on the Reconquista, who were mown down by the murderous hail of gunfire. The stench of gunpowder filled the air as the Reconquista fired back, albeit in a less organized fashion than their Tristanian counterparts.
The first rank immediately rushed to the rear of the formation to reload while the second rank took their place, weapons at the ready. This pattern would repeat itself until all five ranks had fired a volley. All along the line, the four other battalions of the Musketeer Knights furiously worked to maintain a solid wall of lead until every last musketeer had expended every last bit of their ammunition.
"Fix bayonets!" Agnès cried out. The order rippled through every battalion of the Musketeer Knights as plug bayonets were inserted into the barrels of their muskets.
"They're falling back!" a mage from the 52nd Infantry Regiment pointed at the wavering Reconquista troops.
Musket fire from the Reconquista felled more of the Tristanian royal bodyguards, yet they neither flinched or bolted, as befitting of their elite status.
"Charge bayonets!"
Tristanian muskets were brought down to waist level as the Musketeer Knights, now reduced to three-fifths of their original strength, prepared to advance.
"Life battalions, chaaaaaarge!"
Led by the Musketeer Knights, the Tristanian 30th, 52nd, and 71st Infantry Regiments surged forward, with Guldenhorf's 1st and 19th Infantry Regiments following close behind. Reeling in shock from the sudden appearance of the Musketeer Knights, the Reconquista 18th, 34th, and 49th Regiments of Foot were battered into oblivion and routed from the battlefield.
Distant explosions suddenly erupted from the Tristanian left flank, and Oudinot watched as the Reconquista ships were suddenly torn asunder by what he could only assume to be the British, which filled the Tristanians and their Guldenhorf allies with hope and caused the Reconquista to retreat once more. Rather than pursue them, the Tristanians stood their ground as the enemy was repulsed once more.
Oudinot sighed as he watched the Reconquista fall back to their starting point. "How much longer can we keep this up?" he murmured.
Hill 385, 1805 hours
"Looks like the Tristanians are giving the Reconquista quite the beating," Daniel observed as Arnhem and Blenheim Companies waited for the Challengers to finish blowing up the Reconquista ships in front of them.
"Any idea on who's administering the beatdown?" Zachary asked.
"Ten quid says it's those Musketeer Knights or whatever they are," Nathan chuckled.
"You're on," Zachary huffed.
"Can it, you two," their platoon commander said sternly. "We're moving out soon, so save the fuckery for later, would you?"
Silence fell upon the whole company as they watched the Reconquista flagship descend to the ground in flames.
"Broadsword Actual to all units, rule Britannia. Say again, rule Britannia," Julius suddenly spoke into the comms.
As one, the two infantry companies stood up from their kneeling or prone positions and began their advance.
"Watch your spacing," Daniel keyed his comms as they advanced behind the tanks. "And eyes out."
Mortar fire erupted from the hill behind them, causing the tanks and infantry to stop as they watched the bombardment from a safe distance. After a minute, the mortar bombardment ceased and they resumed their advance for a hundred meters before the bombardment resumed.
The sun had already set beyond the horizon, so the British infantrymen donned their night vision goggles and continued scanning their surroundings.
"Fish in a barrel, eh?" Lionel snickered into the comms as the British battlegroup caught sight of Reconquista cavalry galloping towards them in order to check their advance.
"Don't jinx us, Bristol," Daniel grumbled. "Hostile cavalry twelve o' clock! Blenheim Company, spread out and fill the gaps!"
Both infantry companies immediately fanned out into line formation to engage the approaching cavalry force, extending the width of their flanks. The tanks joined in on the fight as they fired HESH rounds at the oncoming Reconquista forces.
"How many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man?!" Daniel heard a private shout into the comms. The channel was immediately filled with laughter as they all understood what was being referred to.
"Alright, stow the chatter, gents," the captain chuckled as more Reconquista infantry streamed towards them. "Look alive and focus!"
Semiautomatic and fully automatic fire filled the air as the British effortlessly brushed off the enemy assault, outnumbered as they may be. Explosions lit up the grassland, illuminating their surroundings and casting an eerie glow on their faces as they continued their advance.
"How much further to the flagship?" Andrew asked.
"Two thousand meters," Daniel responded. "Once we reach the objective, I want a platoon to stay with the armor while the rest go in, clear the ship, and find Cromwell."
"Arnhem Company, this goes for you as well!" Lionel barked over his comms.
As they got to within 1,500 meters of their objective, the ground suddenly shook from under them. The infantrymen quickly knelt down to lower their center of gravity as they braced for whatever threat they may face. And soon enough, six huge golems rose up from the ground merely a hundred meters from their current positions.
"Shit! Shit shit shit, we got golems!"
"Let the armor deal with them!"
The Challengers immediately opened fire on the golems. However, unlike the golems they had faced earlier in the day, the ones they were facing proved to be much tougher, requiring as many as six shots before they could be brought down.
"Snipers, I want a fix on those mages! Find whoever summoned those golems and take them out of the equation!" Daniel yelled into his comms.
"Roger," his snipers acknowledged. "Relocating now."
The British resumed their march towards the downed ships, following closely behind the tanks. Riflemen swept their eyes and weapons to and fro, with the rearguard providing rear security as they got closer and closer.
As the British infantrymen and armor reached the waist-high grass, some of them began to feel uneasy.
"Is that all of them?" one tank commander wondered.
"I don't think so. Check your thermals, they could be anywhere," Marcus stated.
The gunners switched to thermal imaging and scanned their surroundings, noting that the flanks and rear were clear of Reconquista combatants. Their front, however, was another story. Five hundred meters in front of them, nearly two thousand Reconquista infantrymen lay in wait, prepared to spring their trap.
"Burn them out," Daniel ordered.
A forward observation officer brought out his rangefinder and proceeded to survey the ground in front of him with the aid of his night vision goggles before he keyed his comms. "Observer One Bravo to Blizzard Actual, adjust fire, polar, over."
"Blizzard Actual to Observer One Bravo, adjust fire, polar, out."
The FOO glanced at Andrew, who nodded for him to continue.
"Warning, direction one zero eight three; distance zero five one seven, danger close, over."
"Warning, direction one zero eight three; distance zero five one seven, danger close, out."
"Eyes out, gents!" Andrew barked out to his platoon.
"Estimate two thousand Reconquista infantry out in the open, over."
There was silence for a few moments before the battery commander responded. "Say again your last, Observer One Bravo?"
The FOO growled. "Say again, Blizzard Actual, estimate two thousand Reconquista infantry out in the open, over."
"Estimate two thousand Reconquista infantry out in the open, out."
Daniel keyed his comms. "Prepare for contact!"
Seconds passed by before the battery commander spoke again. "Blizzard Actual to Observer One Bravo, message to observer: Tango, three rounds, WP in effect, target number Mike Delta one two one one, over."
"Observer One Bravo to Blizzard Actual, message to observer: Tango, three rounds, WP in effect, target number Mike Delta one two one one, out."
Silence fell over the battlefield before the battery commander came back online. "Shot, over."
"Shot, out," the FOO immediately replied before shifting his gaze forward.
"Splash, over."
"Splash, out."
The evening air was shattered by a shriek before an 81mm white phosphorous round exploded right on top of the enemy, illuminating the fields and sending the would-be ambushers into disorder.
"What is this?! How did they see through our trap?!"
"It burns! Brimir help me, it burns!"
"What kind of foul magic is this?!"
"Mother! Motheeeeer! Aaaaaargh!"
"Fall back! The ambush has failed, fall back!"
The British battlegroup stared in horror as their enemies burned to death, while the remainder retreated back to their damaged flagship.
"Focus! It's either us or them!" Daniel barked to his men.
"Cut down the stragglers!" Lionel said.
"Titan Actual to all Titan elements, engage. Say again, engage," Marcus ordered his Hussars into action.
The FOO keyed his comms again as cannon, rifle, and machine gun fire erupted, cutting down scores of Reconquista soldiers in seconds. "Observer One Bravo to Blizzard Actual, target round, fire for effect, over."
"Blizzard Actual to Observer One Bravo, target round, fire for effect, out."
"Don't let up! Maintain pressure!" Marcus ordered.
"Shot, over," the battery commander informed the FOO.
"Shot, out."
"Splash, over."
"Splash, out."
The Reconquista retreat turned into a rout as men ran in all directions, their will to fight thoroughly drained as they were seized by panic and despair, all the while being under accurate mortar fire nearly five thousand meters away.
"If that doesn't put the fear of God in them, I don't know what will," Andrew murmured as he turned to his FOO. "Wrap it up."
The FOO nodded and contacted the battery commander. "Observer One Bravo to Blizzard Actual, end mission. Target in retreat, estimate six hundred enemy casualties, over."
"Blizzard Actual to Observer One Bravo, end mission. Target in retreat, estimate six hundred enemy casualties, out."
The mortar fire slowly died down as the British battlegroup resumed their advance, pausing only briefly to spare a glance at the dead bodies in front of them before moving onwards.
What was an easy victory will haunt them for the rest of their lives.