Chapter 37: Why are we back to asking about General Vorontsov again?

"Stop your yapping! What are you blathering about? You clearly just need a good thrashing!"

With a heavy strike from a rifle butt that sent the fellow seeing stars, Andrei ordered his soldiers to bind the lot of them and toss them onto his transport vehicle. Unlike regular infantry, these officers were bound to hold valuable information; interrogating them might yield crucial enemy intelligence.

In the distance, the sound of gunfire sputtered intermittently. The shell-shocked Black Eagle soldiers could no longer mount any meaningful resistance; panicked and in full retreat, they had dissolved into a disorganized rabble. Unfortunately for them, they could not outrun the players. The ruthless players cared little for the logistics of a retreat—if they ran, you simply chased them down. To the players, these men were nothing more than walking medals and combat experience; only a fool would let them go. Neither the speed of the two armored vehicles nor the players’ unnaturally infinite stamina was something the Black Eagle soldiers could hope to match.

"Uraa—!"

Watching the players raise their bayonets and charge at the fleeing soldiers with their signature "salty fish lunges," Andrei felt his life had peaked. The mere thought that his troops would rely on such maneuvers for combat—or even for basic movement—made him shudder at how bizarre his army's reputation would become. He could only hope for a legacy akin to the Death Korps of Krieg, rather than becoming a viral compilation of human absurdity.

However, Andrei was unaware that inside the town of Coldwater, the Cambrian soldiers hiding within the small buildings were observing the players' outrageous performance with equal bewilderment.

"...My god, they are truly furious!" a soldier muttered, unable to help himself as he listened to the cries of "Uraa," laden with such raw fury and desperation.

To the players, the battle cry during a bayonet charge was merely an annoying game mechanic—a means to alert the enemy and prevent the game's balance from breaking. Even the shouts themselves were just automated audio clips. But to the regular soldiers, it was hard to imagine what these Cambrian soldiers had endured in previous wars to sound so harrowing. That familiar cry of "Uraa" felt like some kind of unique, harrowing identification signal.

Those who had been confused as to why the Black Eagle Imperial forces were suffering from an internal mutiny suddenly understood: these men driving Black Eagle armor and wearing Black Eagle uniforms were actually their own!

As they watched one retreating Black Eagle soldier after another fall to the bayonets of these men, or get riddled with bullets by the terrifying "great iron cans," a few Cambrian officers furrowed their brows.

"Who is leading these men? How can they be so cruel? They are violating the laws of war!"

No sooner had the young officer spoken than another officer beside him retorted:

"Heh, and here we go again with you noble academy graduates. You’re all useless in a fight, obsessed with your textbooks, and yet you have so many complaints!"

"You want to talk about the laws of war? Why don't you ask if the Black Eagle Empire follows them? They use forbidden abyssal magic and necromancy without a second thought! And what about the civilians they’ve slaughtered? They weren't thinking about the laws of war then! Every one of those Black Eagle devils belongs in the Ice Prison—the Lady of Cold Blood should come and reap the lot of them!"

Stung by this rebuke, the young officer flushed bright red, unable to find a response. This sudden, brutal war did not align with the noble honor he had envisioned; he felt as though the entire conflict had gone mad. This was not what war was supposed to be like in his mind.

As the last Black Eagle soldier fell, Andrei leaned on his crimson military banner and blew his assembly whistle. He had realized that on a noisy, chaotic battlefield, human voices didn't carry far, becoming unintelligible at a distance. But a shrill whistle could cut through the din, ensuring an immediate response.

Seeing the assembly command appear on their system interfaces, the players scrambled back toward Andrei, clustering together in a chaotic mess without a hint of proper formation. Andrei gestured toward the town in the distance and addressed them:

"Well done, warriors! You have completed your mission brilliantly. You wiped out an entire battalion of Black Eagle soldiers and sent them scurrying like rats!"

"But the battle is not over. It continues. We will now enter the town to regroup with our allies and discuss the next phase of our operation!"

With that, Andrei ordered his soldiers to quickly swap back into their own uniforms.

Now that there was no need for a surprise assault, why would they walk in wearing those uniforms? Were they waiting to be beaten to a pulp by their own allies? Once the uniforms were changed, Andrei sent a small infantry squad ahead to signal the allies inside before letting the vehicle column slowly cross the bridge. Although he doubted the friendly forces would be dim-witted enough to fire on them, caution was always wise. After all, the Italians had once managed to shoot down their own Marshal with anti-aircraft fire; who could guarantee these allies wouldn't be equally jumpy?

The scouting party negotiated quickly. Before Andrei’s column had even finished crossing the bridge, several soldiers surrounded an officer on horseback and trotted rapidly toward them. Before Andrei could grasp what was happening, a bearded face pressed heavily against his own. The sudden, enthusiastic cheek-to-cheek greeting left Andrei petrified on the spot.

"Oh, Captain, well done! Truly magnificent! And your troops as well, Major!"

After finishing with him, the bearded officer rushed over to perform the same greeting with Major Yuri. Clearly, as a true son of the Cambrian Empire, Major Yuri was quite accustomed to the gesture, unlike the shell-shocked Andrei. Fortunately, the bearded man hadn't actually kissed him, or Andrei feared he might have lost his lunch.

"My god, what a genius idea! Captain, I must admit, my impression of you noble-born officers has changed!"

The bearded officer spoke with overflowing enthusiasm before introducing himself: "Captain, I am Lieutenant Colonel Dmitri Ivanovich Uneray, commander of the 6th Independent Replacement Regiment."

Andrei introduced himself in turn, only to be met with the same exclamation and a question as to whether he was the son of General Vorontsov. Andrei was none too clear on that point himself, though he likely shared some familial connection to the General. He glossed over the topic with a rough wave of his hand and asked, "Lieutenant Colonel Uneray, what is the mission of your infantry regiment? Are you tasked with garrisoning this town?"