Chapter 20: Captain, Can We Really Defeat Them?

“Damn it, where did they run off to?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they fled into the forest?”

The Black Eagle soldiers who had hurriedly arrived at this section of the trench regrouped, but found no trace of the enemy.

The battlefield was strewn with the bodies of Black Eagle soldiers, many charred to blackened husks by flamethrowers, creating a grim and chilling sight.

The arriving troops glanced back toward the narrow path behind them and estimated that if the enemy wanted to break through, they most likely escaped along that path into the adjacent woods.

After all, they wouldn’t be foolish enough to run back toward their own reserves waiting behind, would they?

If they did head back toward the reserves and the reinforcements arriving afterward, that would be laughable!

A tardy officer looked over at his murmuring men, frowned, and asked, “What’s going on? What are you all discussing? Shouldn’t you be pursuing the enemy immediately?”

Hearing this, several Black Eagle soldiers exchanged glances, silently cursing in their hearts.

It was typical: officers bark orders, and soldiers are expected to run themselves ragged. But those warriors from the Cambrian Empire had fought ferociously; they dared not chase after them.

Hundreds of Black Eagle corpses lay across this battlefield—far more than during their earlier assault on the trench line.

“Sir, we’ve just lost the enemy’s trail, but we estimate they’ve slipped into the dense forest along the path,” one soldier reported with a salute, though his expression soured as he added, “With all due respect, sir, pursuing them into the woods now is a terrible idea. The sun is nearly setting.”

“We’re utterly unfamiliar with the Cambrian Empire’s forests. If we force a jungle fight, our brothers will likely die needlessly.”

The officer nodded. He hadn’t expected his men to chase into the woods.

Though a noble born of the Black Eagle Empire, he cared little for common soldiers’ lives, but excessive casualties would implicate him as their direct commander, especially when those losses were needless.

He growled impatiently, “Very well. Hold this position firmly. I’ll contact the rear immediately to arrange artillery fire over the nearby forest.”

“Those cunning Cambrians won’t get far. Without supplies, their soldiers will tire and starve. In the end, they’ll have no choice but to surrender.”

He observed that if the enemy broke through toward the forest, that very force would collide headlong with their own troops advancing.

By then, those Cambrian soldiers would be either captured or dead on the field. They simply lacked the capacity to break through a blockade of hundreds of thousands and fight their way out.

A frontline call quickly relayed the request for artillery barrage to the rear, but it was denied.

The artillery units were relocating, and after consulting their division headquarters, they deemed it unnecessary to delay the entire artillery force’s movement over just a few hundred escaping soldiers.

Though darkness was falling, they planned to fight a field battle and pursue the retreating Cambrian force.

Positioned on the north and south flanks, two modernized units had already encircled the enemy, with mechanized assault regiments penetrating behind their lines.

They knew the Cambrians would desperately seek to break out, and relying solely on these two assault groups wouldn’t be enough to stop the breakout.

Thus, they prepared to launch a night pursuit, aiming to annihilate the disordered enemy force under cover of darkness.

Meanwhile, André commanded his troops to steadily advance along the forest path, clearing the way for the main body behind.

He was prepared to order his men to take cover immediately if enemy artillery began shelling.

Though this wouldn’t guarantee avoiding all fire, it would at least complicate enemy targeting and prevent an unbroken bombardment along the path.

Yet, it seemed the enemy had no intention of using artillery against them.

Glancing back at his soldiers, André’s heart tightened.

After the recent intense fighting, their adrenaline spent, his troops were weary.

Although their successful breakout and the fierce fighting along the way had lifted their spirits, with soldiers eagerly comparing kill counts, the unit was spent.

But they could not afford to be spent—not now.

André knew the forest was no safe haven; they couldn’t rest here overnight.

Beyond the risk of incoming shells, the woods harbored wild animals and possibly pursuing enemies, making it unsuitable for rest.

He believed the enemy probably wouldn’t engage in night combat in the forest, but they might still trail them from a distance.

With this in mind, he stepped forward, clapped his hands to gather the troops’ attention, then rallied them:

“Brothers, hold on a little longer. We’ll reach the village at the other end soon!”

“If we keep moving along this path, we’ll arrive at a village where we can rest and regroup.”

“We can’t stop now—the enemy might catch up any moment. We must push forward!”

Hearing André’s words, the soldiers responded enthusiastically.

“Captain, no problem. We can keep going!”

“I just grabbed a bag of sausages from those Black Eagle bastards. We can eat while marching!”

Having just led them to a brilliant breakout victory, André’s men held him in high regard, especially with some tireless veterans egging them on.

Still, a hesitant soldier nervously asked, “Captain, can we really win this war?”

The question silenced the group. All eyes turned to the young man, who shrank back under their gaze.

Yet he pressed on, “Sir, we’ve been fighting for a month, but our front keeps retreating. The homeland is conscripting desperately.”

“The Black Eagle Empire boasts they’ll destroy us in six months, and their army is far stronger. Can we truly defeat them?”