She changed Europe

Page 49

In an effort to hastily develop this rifle, a certain princess reportedly lost countless hairs. Fortunately, the rifle was successfully produced. However, the French Anthony Alfonso Chassepot, who was in a similar situation, suffered a setback, as the design principles of his weapon were somehow discovered by someone else ahead of time. Nevertheless, the French army still chose his rifle design. In a sense, the weapons of the Osasuna and Austro-Saxon armies were a competition between their own lineages.

The Škoda 1869 had an effective range of approximately 800 meters and a projectile velocity of 410 m/s, far exceeding the firing range of muzzle-loading rifles, giving the Austrian army a greater advantage in defense than in the past.

As the firing range of troops increases, many front-line commanders will spontaneously take advantage of this without manuals or tactical guidance. In particular, their method of firing at the enemy in the first round without seeking accuracy, as long as they enter the effective range, takes the long-range advantage of the Skoda 1869 to the extreme.

Hans lay prone in the trench, took bullets from his ammunition pouch, loaded the paper-wrapped cartridges into the chamber, and then pulled the bolt.

Gisela's original design for the Skoda 1869 template, the Chassepot rifle, supported brass cartridges, and historical experience had shown Gisela that brass was far more reliable than paper cartridges. However, she did not choose brass cartridges mainly because brass cartridges were a new technology, and the factory's production efficiency could not meet the requirements in a short time. Rather than using a smaller quantity of reliable brass, it was better to continue with paper cartridges.

"I won't teach you how to shoot; I'm sure you've spent a lot of time training," Hans said in a low voice to Pete beside him, his eyes fixed on the sights. Since the advent of the rifled rifle, armies across Europe have gradually placed higher demands on the accuracy of their soldiers' shooting, and target practice has become an important part of recruit training in various countries.

“Mr. Hans, this isn’t my first time firing a gun.” As if to confirm Hans’s words, Pete also skillfully took out a bullet from his pocket, loaded it, and pulled the bolt in one smooth motion.

"Ready..." The officer drew out the command exceptionally long, his hoarse voice clearly echoing over the Austrian army's position.

"Fire!" With the order given, a long string of fire suddenly appeared on the Austrian army's position, followed by a deafening volley of fire. At that moment, many of the Sardinian soldiers who were busy crossing the ditch and rushing up the high ground were hit in vital areas by stray bullets and fell to the ground.

Almost instinctively, the Sardinian soldiers all lay down the moment they were hit by concentrated fire. Fortunately, they were about 600 or 700 meters away, and the Austrian rifles were still very inaccurate. The number of Sardinians who were hit earlier was also largely due to luck. But even so, it could not lessen the shock of the Sardinian army to the Austrian firepower.

"Damn it! What's wrong with their weapons!" The Italians were somewhat surprised, and the soldiers' morale began to waver slightly. Seeing the problem with their morale, the officers quickly reassured their men and reorganized the attack.

"Don't be afraid, they're just lucky. God is on our side. Just remember that our weapons are still more advanced than theirs." The Sardinian army that participated in the main attack was not a bunch of cowardly cowards. They were a group of progressive Italians who spontaneously helped the kingdom. They had suffered a lot of losses in the fight against the Austrians because of their poor equipment. The new rifles provided by the French army became a reassurance for them.

"Long live Italy! Long live Savoy!" The officers of the army shouted the slogan again, and then took the lead in continuing to charge forward. Seeing this, the soldiers responded to the slogan and launched a sprint and attack with their officers.

PS1: Anyone playing Yan Yun Sixteen Sounds? 0v0

Chapter 181 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 42 Metamorphosis (Seeking Votes)

Observing that the enemy only hesitated briefly, they continued their attack. The Austrian soldiers then loaded their guns again and pulled the bolts.

"Second firing, prepare, magic armor ready..." This firing session incorporated magic cannon fire, as the Italians had advanced to within nearly 400 meters. While the Empire's magic armor was primarily defensive, it wasn't without offensive capabilities. Although its firepower was significantly inferior to Prussian armor, it still posed a danger to ordinary Italian soldiers.

"Fire!" The order was given, and bullets whistled from the barrels of the Austrian soldiers' rifles. Unlike the first shot, because the enemy had advanced nearly two hundred meters, the closer engagement distance meant that rifle bullets and cannon shells instantly formed a barrage, covering all the Italian vanguard.

A thick cloud of smoke enveloped the hillside in front of the Imperial army's position, obscuring the Italians' situation. The Italian soldiers at the forefront of the charge faced this horrific hail of bullets; severed limbs and screams filled the air, amplifying the brutality of war to an unprecedented degree.

Looking at his own troops' attack, Pete took a few deep breaths, still shaken, and then turned to Hans beside him, saying, "Mr. Hans, if we had been the ones charging just now, would it have turned out the same way...?" As a soldier, you never know whether you'll end up in the trenches or outside them.

“As you can see.” Hans said calmly as he mechanically ejected the spent cartridge and chambered the next bullet.

“They are living, breathing people just like us. They also have families, lovers, and parents and relatives who look forward to their return home.” Pete bit his dry, bleeding lips, the salty taste of blood making him feel even more conflicted.

"Never think like that on the battlefield. Being merciful to the enemy is being cruel to yourself..." Before Hans could finish speaking, an Italian magic cannon shot slammed heavily onto the Empire's position, exploding not far from Hans and Pete. The huge shockwave knocked the two of them to the ground, and the dust kicked up pelted them, staining their dark blue uniforms the color of the soil.

"Damn it!" Hans complained, rubbing his slightly dizzy head. He patted Pete beside him, who twisted his body and struggled to his feet.

"Go check on the casualties over there. If you can, help them. I'll watch over things here for now," Hans suggested to Pete.

"I'm going right now." With that, Pete took off his hat, rolled up his sleeves, and headed towards the spot where the explosion had just occurred.

The massive crater revealed the terrifying power of the magic armor. After the smoke cleared, the ground was a complete mess. The charred corpses made it impossible to identify the fallen comrades, and the severed limbs scattered all over the ground made it impossible to tell whose "parts" they were. This was truly hell.

The thought of this made Pete feel nauseous and vomit, and he threw up everything he had eaten that morning, continuing to vomit until he dry heaved.

"God, may you be blessed." Pete gripped the crucifix tightly, bowed, and prayed, facing the sun. At that moment, several more magic-powered cannons slammed into the Austrian army's positions, and the Austrians retaliated by unleashing their own magic-powered cannons and barrages upon the Italians. Huge tremors reverberated; each explosion signified the loss of life.

Pete stood up, ripped off the cross necklace from his chest, and shoved it into his pocket. At that moment, he truly realized what war was. It was time to put aside his naivety and kindness. In the face of war, all morality and faith were meaningless and unreasonable.

The only way to protect your family is to fight the enemy without hesitation!

the other side--

Hans looked at the enemy, who was less than a hundred meters away, and adjusted the bayonet on his "firewood stick." Calling the weapon "firewood stick" wasn't because he looked down on it, nor because it was bad. The rifle developed by the princess's organization was far superior in performance to previous weapons; the nickname "firewood stick" was simply a sarcastic one used by the soldiers to refer to their weapon.

"That kid needs to learn to grow up eventually." He showed mercy to the enemy just now, which is undoubtedly a fatal problem for a soldier. Letting him see a bloody scene is for his own good.

"Hey! Old Hans, that kid's been gone so long, he's probably too scared to walk by now," one of Hans's comrades joked.

"The way he wet his pants just now reminded us of when we were young, hahaha!" Even with the enemy right in front of them, these veterans still had time to joke. For veterans like them, sacrifice may have long been commonplace. Call them numb or indifferent, but unlike peace, war needs people like them.

"Hmph! Don't say that about William. He's much better than we were when we were young. He only wet his pants once." Hans smiled knowingly when the topic of wetting his pants came up, after all, they were all "veterans."

"Fire, ready!" The Imperial officer's command came again. The veterans' bullets were already loaded. With each bullet that hit an enemy, the threat of the upcoming hand-to-hand combat would be reduced. With this in mind, they aimed with exceptional accuracy.

Even a blind man could hit someone at a distance of less than 100 meters, but none of us are blind.

"Fire! Prepare for bayonet fighting..." The officer drew his saber, pointed it at the enemy, and swung it down heavily. After the Imperial soldiers finished off the Italians one last time with their rifles, they surged out of the trenches and launched a counterattack. The Italians, seemingly exhausted, still did not retreat but instead plunged into the Austrian lines.

"Long live Savoy!" shouted a soldier from the Kingdom of Sardinia, who then charged into the crowd with explosives. The ensuing massive explosion instantly blasted him and several Austrian soldiers nearby to smithereens.

"Tsk! Hans, did you see that? These Italians have gone mad."

“If I were you, you’d go crazy too.” Hans deflected an Italian soldier’s thrust with the barrel of his rifle, kicked him to the ground, then stepped on his body and plunged the gleaming bayonet into his chest. He then gently pulled the bayonet out, and blood gushed out.

"Mr. Hans, watch out!" Hans turned around abruptly and saw an Italian soldier charging towards him. By then, it was too late to retaliate.

Just then, a gunshot rang out, and the Italian soldier who had tried to ambush Hans from behind fell to the ground. Pete took a deep breath, slowly lowered the gun he had just raised, and then skillfully ejected the spent cartridge.

This time, Hans saw only determination and composure in the young man's expression, because at this moment he understood that he was witnessing the transformation and growth of a new recruit.

PS1: The perspectives vary, but telling the story of the war from the perspective of ordinary people is more suitable, since Gisela couldn't possibly have participated in a battle of that scale.

Chapter 182 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter43 Gisela (Seeking Votes)

Turning our attention back to Milan, Gisela was trying to look at a map, while Rita was tidying up and packing up the documents and Gisela's clothes in the room.

Gisela wondered if it was just her imagination, but she noticed that Rita's gaze towards her had become more ambiguous lately, and she was also more affectionate towards her than before, lacking the reserve she used to have.

She scratched her head, unable to figure out why. She also had no idea what the other person did after she gave her body to him that day, because she fell into a deep sleep due to exhaustion. When she woke up again, all she felt was soreness all over her body, as if she had completed a weighted marathon.

From that day on, Rita became just as enthusiastic as she is now...

"Your Highness, if you need, Rita can give you a shoulder and leg massage."

Would Your Highness like some sweets to replenish your energy?

"Your Highness, would you like a drink...?" While maintaining an elegant demeanor, Rita subtly and intentionally displayed her alluring figure, perfectly showcasing the area between her stockings and skirt to Gisela, as if deliberately seducing her. This sight naturally made Gisela somewhat distracted, her attention unable to focus on the military map...

"Ahem! Rita, you go ahead and do your own thing. I also have something to take care of."

"Yes, sir!" Rita didn't say much and politely stepped aside. After all, she had already defeated too many wicked women who were cheating and had ulterior motives, so she didn't need to care about the gains and losses of a single city or place. But she had to admit that the powerful prince was surprisingly charming back then, which made Rita quite tempted. After all, she still preferred a more assertive style.

Looking at Rita who had stepped aside, Gisela took a deep breath to calm herself down. Then she patted Yi Ni Lu Yi and Yi Ni Jiu on the cheeks to remind herself not to indulge in women and to focus her attention on the present moment.

The slow deployment of the Imperial army has created an opportunity for the Italians' attack, but Gisela cannot easily abandon the more than 10,000 Imperial soldiers in the city of Obira. Attacking where the enemy must defend has undoubtedly put the Empire in a very passive strategic position. Fortunately, the Italians seem to lack the understanding of encirclement and reinforcement tactics; otherwise, the Empire's losses would have been even greater.

Knowing that his 20,000-plus Bohemian troops must all march across the Ticino River to join the remaining 10,000-plus Imperial Army troops on the west bank, and then attack the Sardinian army on the outskirts of Obira together, Milan, whose defenses were temporarily undefended, could only hope that his aunt would be in charge, and that General Güle and his reinforcements would arrive. If Milan fell, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Besides, there were too many unknown factors on the battlefield: the French army with no known movements or whereabouts, the Italian raiding force that briefly appeared on the western shore of Lake Maggiore a few days ago, and Garibaldi's army. All of this was shrouded in mystery, forcing Gisela to be on guard.

Just thinking about this made Gisela's palms sweat profusely. This was a gamble, and she was betting on this time difference.

"Tsk!" If it were back when I played Paradox Interactive games, once the formation was set up, all I had to do was attack. Of course, I had to be careful not to cross rivers or rush through mountains, and everything was negotiable. But now? More than 20,000 people, and I also had to consider the marching plan and logistics. If it weren't for the help of capable adjutants like Miss Tifa, managing all this would be harder than climbing to heaven.

She clearly only wanted to slack off in the rear, but unfortunately, she was a magic user... Keeping a magic user like a delicate young lady would be a waste of talent, and no country would be foolish enough to do such a stupid thing. Of course, this was also to earn her military merits and political prestige, so that she would have so-called political capital to advance further in the future.

"And I wonder how my Skoda 1869 is performing?" Gisela was unaware that the Skoda 1869 was already receiving rave reviews from the soldiers on the front lines. Easier loading and longer range—all of this made the Austrian soldiers, who had suffered from the tedious loading process of muzzle-loading guns, feel the "care" from the princess.

“Your Highness! Your luggage has been packed, but what’s with this black lace lingerie…” Rita narrowed her eyes, because she seemed to have discovered a little secret that her Highness was trying to hide.

"Huh?" Gisela turned around abruptly after hearing Rita's words, her fox ears standing up in surprise.

“This is it.” Rita knew her mistress’s personality well, so she calmly picked up the black fabric, which resembled a lingerie-like garment, and then slowly walked towards Gisela. At this moment, the large room was extremely quiet, with only the crisp sound of Rita’s high heels clicking on the marble floor.

“Ah…this…” Gisela wanted to sigh and rub her forehead, because this was a gift from the Prussian princess named Chloris. It was hard to imagine what kind of mental state the princess was in to have her subordinates send such a thing from Berlin to Milan. She was really not used to such an eager pursuit from a woman, after all, her soul was still that of a man.

She had never experienced being pursued like this before.

"Your Highness, won't you speak?" Rita spoke very slowly, enunciating each word clearly, because she noticed that Gisela had been silent from the beginning until now, like a husband caught red-handed by his wife, trying to organize his words of defense.

“This was a gift from someone else,” Gisela said, taking a deep breath to confirm.

"Phew! That's good!" Rita breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that her Highness wasn't the type to seek out these clothes to wear, especially not for her, since she had never seen them before!

“Actually, Rita has always believed in her princess.” Rita’s tone was calm, as if she truly trusted Gisela in this regard.

Wait a minute, another question quickly came to Rita's mind: who would deliver something like this!

Tifa? It was impossible. The image of that former adjutant who had served Gisela, that meticulous and noble lady, so devoted to her duties like a knight, could never be that of someone trying to climb the social ladder by sleeping with His Highness. Rita quickly shook her head, suppressing her inner turmoil, and then continued, feigning composure:

"Did Your Highness wear it?"

"Why...why would I wear something like that?" Gisela looked at the fabric in Rita's hand. It was impossible not to be curious, after all, she had seen countless films in her past life and had seen such impressive things before. Of course, she had only seen them, never actually worn them...it seemed like she had...

Rita would definitely look good in it, but I would never wear it! Absolutely not!

PS1: Clothes definitely look better on my wife, haha.

Chapter 183 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 44 Intensive Deployment (Seeking Votes)

"She absolutely hates women's clothing!" Of course, she didn't say this out loud, because she could already hear Su Beiming's amused expression in her mind. Since the two of them could share their vision if they wanted, Su Beiming actually knew that his other self would put aside shame and morality and try on some more "feminine" clothes when it was late at night, and then explore the origin of mankind and engage in solitary speculation.

As for whether she felt disgusted? That's as if no one has any bad thoughts. We're not saints. What did Su Beiming get after upholding the Dao for hundreds of years? In a sense, she really envied Gisela's carefree attitude.

"Knock knock!" It was that familiar knocking routine again. But this time, nothing would happen, because the person inside had nothing to hide. Seeing no response, the person who knocked habitually pushed the door open.

"What's wrong with you two?" Tifa, carrying the documents, entered the room to find Gisela being shaken by Rita. Gisela didn't respond to Rita, as she was unsure how to explain the situation...

"Is something the matter?" After a brief moment of distraction, Gisela regained her senses and, as if experiencing selective amnesia, asked Tifa.

"Your Highness, the 32nd, 64th, and 57th Divisions of the Bohemian Legion have already departed from Milan and arrived at Magenta. They are expected to cross the river the day after tomorrow. The 7th Division of Lombardy, located on the west bank, will construct defenses in Trecaté to cover the troops' crossing." In order to speed up the journey to Aubila, Gisela chose to cross the river through the Novara region, which belongs to the Kingdom of Sardinia.

Given that the main force of the Sardinian Kingdom was besieging Obira, it was a certainty that Novara's defenses were weak. The reason they dared to cross the river here was because the troops did not need to worry about large-scale enemy attacks. Of course, the troops on the west bank were required to build defenses and provide cover, just in case.

"Grand Duchess Freya has agreed that the Lombardy First Magic Armored Regiment and the Bohemian Third and Fourth Magic Armored Regiments have arrived at the ferry as planned. The magic armor has been packed and the magic warriors have been deployed to Trecaté ahead of schedule."

"Very good, you have completed the task as planned. When will my magic armor arrive?" Unlike ordinary magic armor, magic armor used by magic users is usually stored in Vienna for unified maintenance and upkeep. The magic armor craftsmen also regularly add some new little toys to the armor, so that the magic users can have some unexpected "surprises" every time they use it.

"Arriving in Milan tomorrow." As a member of the royal family, no official of the empire would dare to make things difficult for a princess at this time, because it was not worth it. Gisela's own magical armor could be disassembled, transported, and reassembled almost immediately upon application.

"How is the battle going with Obira?" Gisela asked thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hand.

"According to the battle report transmitted by General Austin via magical communications, starting at dawn yesterday, the 6th, the Kingdom of Sardinia launched five attacks on the western front of Obira. The core of the southwest defense line, the 403 Hill, Gunokin Fortress, remained unconquered. Meanwhile, the Kingdom's army in the northeast only launched a few symbolic attacks, but all of them were repelled by the defenders of Austin's division and the local defense forces of Obira." Tifa stood there at attention, reading the report with a serious expression. The sunlight streaming in from outside shone on the beautiful woman, as if gilding her with a golden outline.

"Is the northeast a feint? If the main attack is in the southwest, then there's no doubt that the magical princess of the Kingdom of Sardinia is in the southwest. Considering that the French reinforcements are coming from the west, this arrangement is not hard to understand," Gisela commented.

“Although Your Highness’s report didn’t mention it, I know that the southwest of Obira has always been the weakest point in the city’s defenses.” Tifa walked to the map behind Gisela and pointed to the southwest of Obira.

"Because when the war started, the generals, led by Marshal Güle, believed that the Kingdom of Sardinia would move south from the northern Piedmont region. Therefore, when Aubila built fortifications, he focused on the north and east sides. As for the west and south sides, because they were near the river, no special defenses were built. The Kingdom of Sardinia launched its attack precisely because it saw our weaknesses."

"That's alright. We don't need to fight a war of annihilation. We just need to break through the enemy's encirclement from the northeast." Gisela wasn't that obsessed with territory. The reason she wanted reinforcements wasn't to defend Obira City, but to preserve her army of over ten thousand.

Lost land can be retaken, but the loss of more than 10,000 elite Imperial National Defense troops is a real blow.

“Rita…” Gisela wanted to order her to help her take her luggage downstairs, but after seeing the black cloth still in her left hand, she obediently shut her mouth, then picked up her heavy suitcase and wobbled downstairs.

"What's wrong with Your Highness today? What's that black cloth you're wearing?" Tifa asked, looking puzzled.

"It's nothing!" Rita didn't explain anything but instead stuffed it into the pocket on the side of her skirt.

As Gisela's troops set off, 12 French troops also entered the Kingdom of Sardinia in batches. The vanguard of the French army, led by McMahon, entered Turin, the capital of Sardinia, on the 7th, where they were warmly welcomed by the local people. They left Turin on the morning of the 8th and crossed the Po River to continue eastward.

Princess Misella of Sardinia, after receiving a plea for help from the commander of the Novara garrison, halted the siege of Aubila later on the 9th. In her view, the Austrians' intentions were twofold: first, to use the besieged Austrian army at Aubila as bait, then launch a surprise attack on the weakly defended Novara; second, to directly break through Sardinia's blockade in the northeast and lift the siege of Aubila. While their focuses differed, there was no doubt that this bold Austrian military action would significantly hinder the effectiveness of the siege.

"I thought the Austrians would continue to cower in Milan waiting for their main force to regroup, but I didn't expect the commander of the enemy to be such a bold man, daring to cross the Ticino River in such an unfavorable situation. This made me a little worried about how many Austrian troops had actually gathered in Milan." This was not because Misella was indecisive, but because the battlefield is ever-changing, and there are some things that must be guarded against.

“Kate!” Missera called out to the adjutant waiting outside the tent.

PS1: It's the weekend!

Chapter 184 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 45 Dark Clouds Appear (Seeking Votes)

"What is it, Your Highness?" Kate gently lifted the tent flap. Because it was late at night, Misella was not wearing her military uniform, but rather a rather thin nightgown. Such a sight was quite rare for Kate.

"Garibotti! Where is Miss Garibotti now?" Misera raised her kerosene lamp, shining its light on the map behind her. It was no wonder that Garibotti was deliberately hiding her whereabouts. Ever since the capture of Stresa Fortress, Garibotti's Alpine Juggernauts had vanished as if they had disappeared, and thousands of the kingdom's elite troops had been nowhere to be found.

If it were anyone else, Misella would have been worried about the annihilation of the entire army, but the commander of this force was Garibaldi, Italy's most outstanding general! And of course, the person she admired most.

“Your Highness, according to the message left by Lord Garibaldi’s magical communication last time, her plan is to attack Sestoker Lundé.” Kate pointed to the location of Sestoker Lundé.

“Sestoklende is about 60 kilometers from Milan, located northwest of Milan. If Miss Garibaldi were to go straight to Milan, she would have a good chance of winning,” Misella said, resting her chin on her hand as she consulted Kate beside her.

"That depends on the situation of the remaining garrison in Milan. Although we have intelligence indicating that the main Austrian force has not yet arrived in Milan, they still have an adult magic user stationed in the city." Kate's implication was clear: Garibaldi's forces were far too few, and such a small number of men were insufficient to support her attack on a large city like Milan.

"Damn it! It's all Father and Lord Cavour's fault for not trusting Miss Garibaldi. If she were given enough troops, taking Milan directly would no longer be a problem. With Milan fallen, the kingdom could liberate Lombardy without relying entirely on the French army." If this were the case, the kingdom's politically weak position would be somewhat mitigated. Most importantly, Garibaldi's achievements would no longer be concealed or promoted. At that time, she could be given important responsibilities more openly and legitimately, without being hindered by these nobles.

Misella bit her nail, exhaled a breath of stale air, and said, "No! Kate, we still have to tell Miss Garibaldi this news. Let her decide for herself; I trust her judgment." When she mentioned the word "trust," a deep-seated determination and pride shone in Misella's eyes.

“Yes, Your Highness. I will arrange for the magical communication to be sent to Lord Garibaldi immediately.” Kate bowed, appearing polite and humble.

"Let our troops continue their feint attack. Tomorrow, let the Ifrea Legion, which is covering the flank of our forces, march north with me. I want to see if that Austrian fox princess is as troublesome as the rumors suggest." Misella didn't want the defenders to see any openings created by the large-scale mobilization of the kingdom's army outside the city, so she needed to maintain the original attack rhythm.

"As ordered!"

Meanwhile, within the city of Obira—

Because of the wartime curfew, the city of Austro-Hungarian was pitch black. Apart from Austro-Hungarian soldiers patrolling with torches, there were hardly any idle people on the streets. The silvery moonlight shone on the silent city, adding to its somber and desolate atmosphere.