Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 247: The Battle of Fort Bidou - Execution by Firing Squad



Chapter 247: The Battle of Fort Bidou - Execution by Firing Squad

Chapter 247: The Battle of Fort Bidou - Execution by Firing Squad

TL: Etude

“Alternate firing, advance!”

“Ready!”

Bryce shouted, riding alongside his troops. Many commanders of the allied forces fought alongside their units, not out of bravery, but out of fear that their soldiers would scatter if they were not present.

With a rustling sound, a thousand Alda troops formed three neat rows. Upon hearing Bryce’s command, the first row leveled their guns, aiming at Kent’s army in front.

At this distance, the Alda soldiers could clearly see the faces of their enemies.

Bryce raised his hand and swung it down forcefully: “Fire!”

From Kent’s army’s perspective, a burst of smoke suddenly erupted from the Alda side, followed by strange explosions and the ‘whooshing’ sound of something rubbing against the air.

The frontline, especially the spear-wielding soldiers protecting the archers, were the most unfortunate. Seeing the Alda men stop, they assumed they were about to fire “fire crossbows” and, based on their experience against arrows, waved their spears to deflect the incoming projectiles. However, this was futile against the deadly metal bullets.

As the first row of guns fired, the spear-wielding soldiers in front of the archers fell almost in unison. Only a few remained, still waving their spears in confusion, not realizing what had happened.

The Alda soldiers, equipped with flintlock rifles, stood closely packed. Even at a distance of 50 meters, their smoothbore barrels ensured some accuracy. Moreover, since Kent’s spearmen were also tightly packed, missed bullets could still hit nearby targets.

Painful groans soon rose from Kent’s right flank. Soldiers writhed and struggled on the ground; many barely moved before losing their breath.

“Fire! Fire back!”

“Suppress the Alda with ranged attacks!”

Kent’s right-wing officers maintained their composure, urging their archers to counterattack.

As the enemy panicked, the first row of Alda troops stayed put to reload, while the next two rows moved forward, preparing to shoot.

They faced another volley of arrows, but this time it was sparse and caused minimal casualties.

Bryce commanded again: “Fire!”

Gunfire erupted on the battlefield once more. This time, Kent’s archers were the unlucky ones. After many fell, fear set in, and several archers started retreating, hiding behind others, avoiding the front line. They realized that the “fire crossbow” attacked in almost a straight line, making the front row the most vulnerable.

Consequently, Kent’s right wing began to slowly retreat.

However, overall, the allied forces were not in a good position.

Kent’s cavalry was more numerous, better armored, and the scales of victory were gradually tipping in their favor.

Count Parker, seeing the dire situation, ordered all military-skilled commanders to join the battle. Despite his age, he led his personal cavalry into the fray.

The commanders’ participation boosted the morale of the lower-ranking soldiers, but it was uncertain how long this would last, as the fundamental imbalance in power remained unchanged.

“We must quickly end the battle on the left flank and then assist our allies,” Bryce concluded after surveying the battlefield. He called Joyce for consultation and made the decision.

By this time, the Alda army had fired four volleys, causing significant casualties to Kent’s troops. The enemy had not yet dispersed, only retreated, and their arrows came sporadically and in disorder, losing much of their effectiveness.

“Volley fire, prepare!”

At the command, the first row of soldiers immediately knelt on one knee, all three rows of soldiers simultaneously pointing their guns at the enemy.

“Fire!”

All three rows of soldiers pulled their triggers together.

In an instant, a loud sound erupted, its force startling everyone else on the battlefield.

Both sides engaged in close combat ceased, turning to look in the direction of the Alda army.

A scene reminiscent of lions hunting a rabbit unfolded.

The simultaneous volley fire from the three rows of muskets was overwhelming. It not only swept down a large number of archers who were drawing their bows but also completely shattered the remaining archers’ psychological defenses.

“Oh heavens above!”

A bowman shouted in a breakdown before turning to run. The person who had stood in front of him was hit by a stray bullet, his head bursting open like a split watermelon, with fragments of his skull hitting the bowman.

This cry was like the last straw breaking the camel’s back. Triggered by his action, the surrounding Kent soldiers also turned and ran. Although they had been retreating slowly while maintaining order, now everything descended into chaos. Each soldier wished they could grow an extra pair of legs.

Bryce drew his sword and pointed forward: “Charge!”

“Kill!”

The three rows of Alda soldiers suddenly burst into a war cry and, with bayonets fixed on their muskets, charged towards the dispersing Kent archers.

The few who were still insistent on shooting arrows turned and ran upon seeing the enemy charging.

Kent’s archers had long lost the protection of their spearmen, and their only close-combat equipment was a dagger, no match for the Alda soldiers’ bayonets. Moreover, they were in the midst of a rout, with no one stepping up to organize a counterattack, and the officers themselves had been terrified into fleeing.

Joyce, with a bayonet fixed, stayed close to Sergeant Makarov.

Previously, whether fighting cavalry or exchanging fire with archers, they had used muskets to hit the enemy from a distance. This time, however, they were engaged in close combat… well, more accurately, chasing the enemy’s back, as the enemy was fleeing.

Sergeant Makarov caught up with an enemy soldier and efficiently thrust his bayonet into his back.

Nearby, several other enemy soldiers, seeing their relentless pursuit, turned and drew their daggers, their eyes filled with ferocity.

“Yaaaaah!”

Whether to intimidate their enemies or to embolden themselves, the archers shouted wildly and then charged with daggers in hand.

Makarov gestured to his comrades and raised his bayonet to block the dagger of the foremost attacker.

Joyce and another comrade faced the charging archers. His comrade forcefully parried an opponent’s dagger, and taking advantage of the opponent’s stagger, Joyce accurately thrust his bayonet into his left rib, just as accurately as in their regular training.

There was no hesitation, no mercy – who could afford such luxuries in a life-or-death situation?

However, upon reflection after the battle, one might feel differently…

Other Kent soldiers attempting to counterattack saw their comrades easily killed and went limp, dropping their daggers.

“Mercy! We surrender!”

They knelt on the ground, rear end up, bodies trembling uncontrollably.

Similar scenes played out continuously on the right wing of Kent’s army.

“Congratulations, Colonel, a textbook rout!”

Joyce, the battalion commander of the third battalion, said to Bryce with satisfaction.

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