Steel Empire
Symphony War

It took all night for Ulrich to raise his levies and equip them with the small equipment he could keep. It's not like their lives mean anything to him. Of course, the levies had no idea who they were fighting or why a large number of them had been conscripted. Most of them had never held a spear before in their lives. If they knew they were going against Berengar, Baron Kufstein's son and heir, and were essentially acting in open rebellion; they would probably take a stand against Lord Ulrich. Unfortunately, they did not know their opponents and only did as they were told out of fear of persecution.

As the sun rose the next day, the sound of digging could be heard by the troops resting in their trenches. The rescuers worked day and night to free Berengar, and now they have finally reached their destination. As the walls of debris collapsed around Berengar and their light illuminated the room, he protected his eyes, as his eyes were not adjusted to such brightness. Then he felt a hand clasping his shoulder, and he looked up, barely seeing the haggard old face of Ludwig, covered in soot.

"My lord, I'm glad to see you're okay!"

Berengar began to chuckle and cough from the debris particles that filled the air.

"His cup, I am hard to kill" he said with a wry smile on his face as Ludwig dragged the young master to his feet and began to carry him out of the pit of the mine.

"Aye, now let's take you to the field medics and see if we can do something about your injuries."

After exiting the cave, Berengar saw hundreds of volunteers and militia members cheering for him as if they were witnessing the general's return from a triumphant conquest. In one of his two lives, he had never witnessed such a scene before. Perhaps he was a bit too rash to lose his trust in ordinary people. Fresh air did wonders for the clarity of her head as she sat on a bench and had medics disinfect her wounds, which were particularly stinging as distilled alcohol killed the bacteria that started to rot.

When Berengar founded the militia, he was convinced to start a production line for first aid supplies and medical equipment that could be used by those who became field medics to save lives on the battlefield. It wasn't a surgeon's kit at all, but it got the job done. He would never send a fighting force without medics beside them to help the wounded. Thus, medics received infantry training and basic medical training, or at least the best Berengar could remember. He was never trained as a proper medical personnel; he only knew some basic first aid from time to time improving himself after a few memos in his old life. After all, in his old life, the American health system was terrible, and he had better sew himself up than go to the emergency room and spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on it. What he learned in his old life he passed on to his field medics; at the very least, they could save several lives from minor injuries.

After being treated by medics, Eckhard approached him, who patted him on the shoulder and informed him of the situation.

"Lord Ulrich has conspired against you with your brother to bring your death to this mine. The foreman we arrested leaked everything he knew about their plot. Last night Ulrich approached us and asked us to leave; of course, we refused, and he vowed to return with a charge. How should we proceed?"

Berengar was currently bare-chested with many bandages wrapped around him. His body was covered in soot, dirt, and dust, which blackened his flawless milky-white skin. The pomade in his hair had collected cave manure, like a moth into a fire. If one was not familiar with the young master, they might mistake him for someone else. Berengar took a sip of water from the prepared canteen and exhaled it deeply. He felt his entire mouth filled with dirt and iron after inhaling particles of debris for the past few days. After gargling water and spewing dirt, he looked at Eckhard with his answer.

"How should we proceed? We killed them all, of course! Everyone who marches in this position is guilty of treason; I don't care if they just follow orders. Let's show this traitor what happens when they march in a trench line filled with 600 guns and the brave men who use them!"

Berengar shouted his orders loudly enough to be heard by all the surrounding militia members; again, cheers began, but these were not the cheers of grateful people that their master and commander survived. It is the cheers of those who will squander their enemies and who have fun in them. Although when Berengar stood up and raised his hand, silence soon followed as he began his speech.

“I looked around me, and what I saw was not peasants, or slaves, or commoners; but Kufstein people, brothers, fathers, and sons. Under my leadership, we have made great progress towards a new era, where a man's worth is not determined by the class in which he was born, but by the hard work and effort he put into his community.

Many of you have been raised from the life of a slave, breaking the back of the kaliqn every day in the fields so that you can plant crops for your master. Now you work in a factory and are given good wages and decent living conditions.

The men out there want to take my life, but more importantly, they want to take the life you have made for yourself, which I have worked with all of them to implement.

I ask you not to risk your lives for some small grievance in which I, your master and commander, have suffered, he said, but to preserve the way of life that we have all built and continue to work! Today is our day against those who oppose the dawn of a new era, the dawn of an industrial era!"

Although it wasn't an epic speech of a lifetime, it was more than enough to gather people who began to question their position on the defensive line and increase their courage. As soon as Berengar finished his speech, the enemy horn roared in the distance, and with it, an army of 1600 men came marching towards the fortress. Now, however, the defenders were completely mesmerized by Berengar's exclamation and would defend this position with their lives if necessary. The militia rushed to their positions and began loading their rifles, rifles, and cannons.

Berengar could not stand still; and walked over to Eckhard, who was busy leading the troops to their positions.

"Major Eckhard, I need a shotgun!"

Berengar said in an authoritative tone to the second commander, which confused the old knight. Berengar had not eaten for days; he barely had enough time to hydrate before the enemy appeared; he was covered in cuts and bruises. He had a slight concussion and his ribs cracked. But the dirt-covered young master standing there demanded a rifle so that he could also join in the action. Eckhard, of course, could not help but voice his grievances.

"Sir, do you really think that's a good idea?"

Berengar glared at Eckhard with a ruthless gaze as he boldly declared in front of his troops who were marching in the trenches with their rifles raised.

"I will not sit idly by while the people under my command risk their lives before the enemy; now tell someone to take me a rifle!"

Eckhard could not help but admire Berengar's spirit; even in his condition, he chose to fight and die with his army. He was truly a young master worthy of being followed. Before Eckhard could even bark at the command, a man came up with a rifle and a paper cartridge box strapped to his belt and handed it to Berengar while kneeling.

"My lord, I have obtained what you asked for."

Berengar grabbed the equipment and put on the belt shortly after. He bit the paper cartridge and started refilling his weapon; while he was in the process, he barked at the soldier who brought his weapon.

The man quickly attracted attention and paid his respects

"Okay, my master!"

Berengar replied to the man's respect before giving him the order

"Good, now take me to the front line. I want to be among the first line to shoot these bastards!"

The militia members were assigned to a support unit. He was initially grateful, but after seeing the enthusiasm of his Master and Commanders for battle, he couldn't help but feel sad because he couldn't fight on the frontlines beside the young master. After leading Berengar to the frontline, the man returned to his support unit with a grim expression. Berengar, as a supreme officer, had seized direct command on the front lines, something the troops favored.

...

Meanwhile, Ulrich stayed behind his troops with his house guards; he was a cowardly man who refused to dirty his hands on the battlefield. Next to the house guards were the knights and gunmen. Basically all his professional strength. Ulrich's plan was simple; he would ask the peasants to charge for the defense of the enemy; after all, their numbers far outnumbered the Berengar militia. When the retribution has removed the cavalry traps placed in front of the trench line, the Knights and their armed Men will pass through the mining town and slaughter the remaining Berenagar troops.

While Berengar was covered in dirt, dust, and dirt from the mine and did not have the proper armor, or even a doublet to wear, Ulrich is covered from head to toe in armor of steel plates in a style common during this time that would later be referred to as the Churburg style. Right now, the visor to his large bascinet was open as he watched his farm levies march towards the fort. He had very few archers. However, once they were within range, they would rain down on the unarmed defenders allowing his attacks towards the trenches.

His plan was supposed to go smoothly, it would allow him to defeat Berengar and his militia and cover his tracks successfully. So when his archers advanced to a distance of 400 yards, which was still far beyond their capabilities, he did not expect the hidden cannons would start raining down on them at all. When the six cannons echoed with thunder as tube shots flew out of their holes and rained down on the archers piercing the gambeson and their armor as if it was made of tissue paper and spreading limbs they were on the field, Ulrich almost fainted from fear. He had never witnessed a cannon, let alone a rifle. Instantly what little archer he had crumbled into a pile of minced meat, their bodies were no longer recognizable. The first part of his plan was completely ruined.

However, the cannons did not stop there; they quickly refilled and fired a second tube bomb at the farmer's levies, reaping dozens of lives, if not hundreds, in the process. Their blood flowed into the fields like a river and fertilized them in the process. At this point, morale was already broken between the levies, and they began to panic; even the Knights and Men at Arms warhorses began to fear. The moment Lord Ulrich saw his line destroyed, he quickly ordered the knights and soldiers to defend the line at all costs.

"If that peasant bastard starts to break ranks, put them down! They'll move forward or they'll face the consequences." Professional knights and warriors heeded the command of their Lord and rode the retribution of their own route. Very quickly, the retribution farmers began to understand where they stood and were pushed forward for fear of the firing line. Although the cannons continued to sound, claiming the lives of dozens if not hundreds with each step, levies rushed past, knowing their only way out was to come forward and die. Even Ulrich thought once they got close enough, that terrifying rumbling weapon would have no effect.

...

Berengar, on the other hand, made sure his men didn't fire frantically; instead, with each cannon bombing, their morale grew rapidly; many were even dumbfounded at how effective their weapons were.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire don't shoot until you see a white mark on their head!"

This was a phrase Berengar kept repeating to his shooters as they held the rope with their fingers firmly on the trigger. Although the cannons blew up the retribution line and hundreds of losses, there were still nearly a thousand troops rushing towards their positions. The number is shocking and frightening. Nevertheless, they knew Berengar would not steer them wrong as they waited until they were given orders to shoot. Finally, when the first row of Ulrich levies was within 25 yards of the trench line, Berengar shouted with all his might.

"Fire!"

With that, the echoes of nearly 500 rifles exploded simultaneously, each shotgun ball finding its way into the enemy's body. Shredded limbs, fist-sized holes pierced through the chest, and the horrifying screams of those unfortunate enough to survive filled the air as the militias quickly refilled their rifles. At this time, the average militia member can refill their rifle within 20 seconds of all reloading, including Berengar he will give commands "ready", "hoot" and "shoot" as the symphonies of war continue to rage on the battlefield.

Despite losing hundreds of people with each shot, the farmer's retribution continues as their escape route is cut off by Ulrich and his professional soldiers, who now dare not move forward. Ulrich finally understood the absurd comment Eckhard had made to him the day before, "The age of the knights is past," as he stared at the terrible destruction his troops had wrought by the Berengar volunteer militia. Fortunately he was out of reach of this crazy weapon; he began to feel as if the wrath of God was reigning over him when his army collapsed and began to attack, he said, no longer afraid of the armed men behind them who essentially acted as soviet commissioners and reaped the lives of those who fled.

Just as Ulrich was about to give the order to retreat, he once again heard the sound of cannon thunder and whistles of gunfire in the air, but this time, not a tube was fired, but rather a dense ball. A 12-pound cannonball flew towards him and punching his chest apart his body. The God who supported Lambert in his attempt to kill Berengar's life was completely dead.

Berengar laughed as he watched the man's body being torn apart by a huge cannonball, just as he thought to himself.

'Being ripped apart by artillery is painful, isn't it!?!'

Instantly imagining the scene of his death in his previous life. Nevertheless, Ulrich was now dead, and his army was on the move. The knights and gunmen knew better than to stay in kufstein, where they had just acted in rebellion. Therefore, they set out on their horses, escaping Barony and Tyrol altogether. No one would ever believe what they claimed they had witnessed on that battlefield, and it would take a long time before such a scene resurfaced.

Meanwhile, Berengar could not get rid of the war orchestra that filled his ears throughout the battle; despite the loud cheers his men celebrated the battle won without a single casualty. Berengar had enlightenment, and someday in the distant future, was quoted saying as follows.

“On that day when 600 people maintained their positions with their guns rumbling at dawn, the Grim Reaper was conjured. When I saw his ugly face, I realized that I was not a steel and textile merchant but thunder and death. At that moment, I suddenly realized about my fate. One day I will be Emperor ... "

The author quickly ups the subject of the author's course today his lecturer again no business in the rectorate building, Thank You for Visiting