"Commander! The right flank was blown up! The Romanians planted explosives on the mountainside in advance. They... they blew half the mountain down!!" The messenger was still shouting as Morin opened the system map and switched the view to the right flank.
The unit cards for the 27th Mountain Infantry Regiment and the 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment were still there, but a company-sized unit of the latter was rapidly turning gray.
Morin's heart leapt into his throat, then slowly settled down.
Fortunately, the mountainous terrain was highly fragmented, leaving little room for troops to bunch up. Furthermore, the Austro-Hungarian mountain troops weren't fools who charged in tight formations.
During the attack, the squads were spread far apart, and the climbing routes were divided among multiple small paths.
Therefore, that earth-shattering landslide didn't cover nearly as many troops as one might imagine.
But the ones who truly suffered disastrous luck were the lead company of the 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment.
On the system map, the unit card of this company happened to be directly beneath the scree alluvial fan. In that single wave, seventy percent of them were wiped out on the spot.
The remaining thirty percent were scattered around the edges of the alluvial fan, and the number on the unit card was still dropping, clearly indicating that many severely wounded were rapidly losing their vital signs.
Simultaneously, the troops in all other directions were also startled by the earth-shaking blast on the right flank.
Before long, the radio in this forward command post was continuously receiving calls, and messengers riding horses or mules burst out from the still-settling dust one after another.
"Report! The 1st Kaiserjäger Regiment requests instructions on whether to continue the attack. Their men have reached halfway up the mountain!"
"Commander, the 4th Mountain Infantry Regiment reports they have also halted and are asking for further orders!"
Morin rapidly gathered this information. After pondering for a moment, he looked up and issued an order to the communications soldier beside him.
"Order all units to suspend the attack and withdraw in an orderly fashion..."
"Yes, sir!"
After the order was sent, Morin turned and walked back under the temporary shelter, opening his notebook on a rock serving as a desk.
When Kleist rushed over from the rear, he saw Morin sitting alone on a rock, staring blankly.
"Commander, that commotion on the right flank just now..."
"I saw it." Morin interrupted him, tapping his notebook with his finger. "The attack is suspended."
Kleist opened his mouth, then closed it.
Having followed Morin for so long, he knew exactly what the other was thinking... The order to suspend an attack was extremely rare for the instruction unit, which had always been known for speed and ferocity.
"Kleist, I'm thinking about a problem," Morin said to himself without looking up.
"What problem, sir?"
"My preparation for this battle was too sloppy."
Morin recalled carefully. Ever since the instruction unit's expansion, his battles had gone increasingly smoothly.
This was especially true after his body was enhanced by the modification potion.
In the first phase of the Balkan offensive, the Serbians were punched through in one wave.
The incident in Vienna was a coup, not a proper battle, and it was also a sweeping victory.
Even previously on the Western Front, the instruction unit's quality advantage had overwhelmingly solved most problems.
He had fought too many smooth-sailing battles...
This time, arriving at the Carpathian Mountains, although he had conducted preliminary reconnaissance, he had always felt in his heart: It's just a Romanian border defense unit, how tough could they be?
As a result, a "makeshift airplane" (a massive buried explosive charge) had taught him a lesson directly.
"Did I become weaker because of Cecilia..."
This thought flashed through Morin's mind.
Then he thought about it seriously—no.
This woman, who had handled countless logistical, equipment, and industrial problems for him in the rear, hadn't held him back; instead, she provided support far exceeding his expectations in many aspects.
Bringing over a hundred United Industry technicians along with the army this time for vehicle maintenance was the most vivid example.
So the problem didn't lie with others, but with himself.
"It's because I've fought too many smooth battles, so I became somewhat lax..." Morin muttered under his breath.
Kleist stood beside him silently. He understood Morin's personality; when this man, who was so unlike other imperial officers, was reflecting, trying to comfort him would only make him more irritable.
Meanwhile, halfway up the mountain on the right flank.
The temporary command post of the 1st Battalion, 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment, Austro-Hungarian Empire, was set up behind a massive protruding rock.
The 1st Battalion Commander was lying at the edge of the rock, looking at the gruesome scree slope ahead, his teeth grinding audibly.
Just then, a messenger scrambled over, slipping and sliding.
"Battalion Commander! Regimental orders! Command orders the attack suspended!"
The 1st Battalion Commander froze, grabbing the messenger by the collar.
"What did you say? Attack suspended?"
"Yes! Colonel Morin, the overall commander of the Kampfgruppe, personally issued the order for all units to suspend the attack and withdraw in an orderly fashion!"
Hearing this order, the 1st Battalion Commander and his adjutant exchanged a glance. For a moment, neither could quite believe it, even finding it hard to adapt.
In the past, when they clashed with the Romanians in the mountains, those Austro-Hungarian commanders above them would only do one thing—force them to continue attacking.
The officers would wave their pistols and shout for the glory of the Empire until the unit suffered massive casualties and was completely unable to fight anymore.
He had never expected that the Saxon officer in charge this time would be so calm. Upon discovering the situation was wrong, he immediately called off the attack.
Breathing a sigh of relief inwardly, the 1st Battalion Commander quickly made a decision.
"Did you all hear that? Stop the charge!"
"Grenadiers of the 2nd Company, throw out all your smoke grenades to create a screen! Throw them right onto that scree slope!"
"Stretcher bearers! Under the cover of smoke, rescue the survivors!"
Following this, a large number of smoke grenades imported from the Saxon Empire quickly exploded on the scree slope. Dense white smoke rapidly spread, blocking the line of sight of the Romanian defenders on the mountain.
Aside from the troops withdrawing methodically down the mountain, the remaining Austro-Hungarian mountain infantry responsible for covering fire hid behind various rocks or undulating terrain.
They raised their rifles, staring fixedly towards the mountain.
The soldiers of the 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment truly lived up to their reputation as elites within the Austro-Hungarian Army. At least in terms of marksmanship, they far surpassed ordinary Austro-Hungarian soldiers.
The Romanian soldiers in the positions on the mountain had originally popped their heads out, preparing to beat a drowning dog.
But the moment they showed their heads, precise bullets flew up from below.
"Bang!"
"Bang! Bang!"
With a few consecutive gunshots, several Romanian soldiers were headshot, tumbling into the trenches, brains and blood splashing everywhere.
In this high-to-low firefight, the Romanians, despite holding the terrain advantage, suffered consecutive losses.
After taking continuous casualties, the Romanian soldiers no longer dared to easily poke their heads out to return fire.
They huddled in their trenches, firing blindly downwards.
However, the Romanians were not without options. Before long, the 65mm mountain guns set up in their positions began to show their power.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
Continuous explosions rang out. Shells detonated halfway up the mountain, sending shrapnel and rock flying.
But unfortunately, by this time, the last batch of Austro-Hungarian soldiers, carrying the rescued wounded, had already retreated to a safe blind spot under the cover of smoke.
The mountain guns' bombardment only blasted up piles of useless dirt.
The first wave of probing attacks was pressed to pause amidst deafening explosions.
In the forward command post at the foot of the mountain, Morin was looking at the topographical map, reassessing the right flank's high-ground defensive system.
Soon, two officers in Austro-Hungarian uniforms hurried over. They glanced at Morin, who was intently studying the map, took a deep breath, adjusted their caps, and strode quickly to him.
"Colonel Morin!"
"Colonel Wilfried Holzer, Commander of the Austro-Hungarian Army 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment, reporting to you on the right flank operations!"
This colonel was in his forties, his face tanned and rough from the mountain wind.
After saluting, he stood bolt upright before Morin, his expression serious to the point of stiffness.
"Commander, the failure of the right flank attack is entirely my responsibility."
"I failed to adequately warn of the risk of mountain blasting before the attack, resulting in unnecessary casualties among my soldiers—"
"Eh, no, wait..."
Morin raised a hand to interrupt him.
Looking at the posture of this Austro-Hungarian colonel before him, something felt incredibly off.
Was this reporting a situation?
This was clearly coming to plead guilty!
Morin glanced back at Lieutenant Colonel Sarkozy. The latter had stayed by his side since hurrying over earlier, and right now his face bore an expression of embarrassment mixed with zero surprise.
Noticing Morin's gaze, Sarkozy leaned in close and whispered in a mosquito-like voice: "Some 'traditions' of the Imperial Army over here..."
With a few words of explanation, Morin understood instantly.
In the Austro-Hungarian Army system, if the commanding officer of a defeated unit didn't quickly go before his superior to "bear the rod and ask for punishment" (humbly apologize), what awaited him could be even more severe disciplinary action, or even dismissal.
So Colonel Holzer, after leaving the rest of the regimental headquarters to organize the defense line, personally running to Morin here, was purely driven by the unwritten rules of the Austro-Hungarian Army.
It wasn't that he was irresponsible—the entire system forced him to do this.
Morin didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but mostly he felt an indescribable sense of heaviness.
"Colonel Holzer." Morin pointed to another large rock beside him. "Sit down first. I have some questions for you."
"Commander, I—"
"Sit."
The word wasn't spoken heavily, but Colonel Holzer was visibly taken aback.
In the Austro-Hungarian Army, a superior asking a "defeated" officer to sit down and talk—this was probably a first for him.
After stiffening for two seconds, Holzer sat down on a rock, his back still ramrod straight.
Morin also took out his notebook, flipping to the pages recording the reconnaissance results.
"Don't rush to 'plead guilty' just yet. I have a few questions."
"Please speak, Commander."
"First... why was the Romanians' reaction so fast?"
Morin tapped the notebook with his pen.
"Taking a step back, even if a mole notified them immediately, and even if they rushed to complete the mountain positions within these few days, there's no way they could have hauled so much explosive up the mountain and buried it inside the rock face that quickly, right?"
He flipped another page.
"Furthermore, I personally led men up there for reconnaissance earlier and found absolutely no signs of demolition preparations."
Upon hearing this, the tense "guilty" posture on Colonel Holzer's face slowly faded, replaced by a complex expression.
"Colonel Morin, this wasn't an intelligence failure, nor was it an oversight in your reconnaissance... mainly because we and the border defense troops of the Kingdom of Romania have been fighting in these mountains for many years."
Morin frowned.
"How many years is 'many years'?"
"At least a decade or so."
"That long?!"
"Yes."
Colonel Holzer nodded, then earnestly explained to Morin and the surprised-looking Kleist and others:
"Even during peacetime, the border defense troops of both sides in the Carpathian Mountains would clash over pasture boundaries, control of passes, water distribution... all sorts of reasons, big and small."
The colonel's tone was so flat it made Morin slightly uncomfortable, as if he were just chatting about family matters.
"Small-scale frictions happen almost every year, and firefights of regimental scale or larger erupt every few years... Seizing commanding heights, fighting over passes, grabbing favorable terrain... Back and forth, who knows how many times these key positions have changed hands."
Colonel Holzer raised his hand, pointing to the mountain shrouded in dust in the distance.
"So, Colonel Morin, those defensive positions up there weren't built in the last few days..."
"Those tunnels, firing ports, artillery emplacements—they've been there all year round... You take it today, I take it back tomorrow, you come back the day after... The cycle repeats."
"It's even highly likely..." his mouth twitched, "that the pass defensive positions we are about to attack were originally dug by our Austro-Hungarian soldiers."
The hand Morin used to hold his pen stopped.
"What about the explosives?" he pressed. "Burying that much explosive deep inside the mountain isn't a job for a day or two."
"Of course not a day or two. Those demolition tunnels were dug long ago as well."
Colonel Holzer seemed to feel the need to explain more clearly, so he took the pen Morin offered and drew a rough cross-section on a blank page of the notebook.
"You see, to maximize the lethal effect of the 'makeshift airplane,' both our Austro-Hungarian engineers and the Romanians forcibly excavate tunnels deep into the rock layer at key positions on the mountain."
He drew a passage extending from the surface of the mountain slope into the interior.
"Then they dig out a chamber inside, pack it with a massive amount of explosives... Once detonated, it shatters the rock layer of the entire mountain slope from the inside, causing a massive landslide."
"Looking from the outside, there are no traces, because the excavation entrances are camouflaged, hidden inside the defensive positions."
Morin looked at the cross-section diagram, silent for a long time.
When he led men up the mountain to scout earlier, his attention had been entirely focused on the surface fortifications, artillery, and personnel deployment.
From the outside, a mountain is a mountain, and rocks are rocks.
Who could have guessed that the mountain's belly had been hollowed out, packed with hundreds of kilograms or even tons of explosives?
"These 'makeshift airplanes'... how many have both sides prepared in total?" Morin asked.
Colonel Holzer shook his head.
"I don't know the exact number, but it's certain that at least several key passes have them... We've done it ourselves before. On the north side of the Tihuța Pass, my regiment's engineers dug a demolition tunnel seventy meters deep and packed it with twelve tons of explosives."
"Twelve... tons?"
Manstein's voice caught in his throat.
"Yes, twelve tons."
Colonel Holzer nodded, repeating the number.
"Later that pass changed hands, and the tunnel, along with the explosives inside, fell into the hands of the Romanians. Whether they added more, I can't say... I'm digressing, I'm digressing..."
Everyone in the forward command post was quiet for quite a while.
The faces of Kleist and Manstein were not looking good. Paulus even pushed his glasses up and began writing rapidly in his notebook.
After a moment of silence, Morin looked up.
"Colonel Holzer, during the combat meeting, why didn't you mention any of this?"
This question clearly took the latter aback.
He opened his mouth, and finally squeezed out an answer that nearly made Morin roll his eyes.
"Commander... you didn't ask."
Morin took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
However, what made him feel even worse was the very serious, very sincere sentence Colonel Holzer spoke next.
"Commander, on behalf of my soldiers... thank you for not issuing the order to continue the attack."
The weight of this sentence was heavy, so heavy that Morin remained silent for several seconds.
He could tell from the other's tone that this was neither empty politeness nor flattery.
If Morin hadn't called off the attack at that moment, the follow-up troops would have slammed headfirst into more potentially existing "makeshift airplanes."
At that point, the 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment would likely have lost far more than just a single company...
Morin: "Colonel Holzer."
"Yes, Commander."
"What is the status of your men right now? Can they still fight?"
"We can fight." Colonel Holzer answered with almost no hesitation. "The 1st Company of the 1st Battalion was crippled, but the 2nd and 3rd Companies are essentially intact, and the 2nd and 3rd Battalions haven't engaged in combat yet."
He paused, then added:
"The mountain guns of the pass defenders fired a few more volleys later, but didn't hit many of our men... My soldiers maintained order during the retreat, using smoke grenades to cover the withdrawal of the wounded."
"Oh right..."
Colonel Holzer's expression revealed a rare hint of something else.
"While covering the retreat, the shooters of the 2nd and 3rd Companies forced the Romanians in several positions on the mountain to keep their heads down... Those guys suffered quite a bit."
Morin raised an eyebrow. The defenders firing from an elevated position were actually suppressed by the Austro-Hungarian soldiers below in a firefight?
"Your men's marksmanship is that accurate?" he couldn't help asking.
Upon hearing this, Colonel Holzer puffed out his chest.
"The 2nd Kaiserjäger Regiment's shooting scores have consistently ranked among the top in the Austro-Hungarian Army all year round. That's not an empty boast."
Having said this, his face finally showed a bit of a soldier's pride.
Morin noted this information in his mind, then turned to another crucial question.
"Colonel Holzer, there's one thing I must confirm—what exact unit are the defenders on the mountain?"
"The enemy situation briefing stated they are the border guard regiment of the Kingdom of Romania's Home Defense Brigade, but their performance today... doesn't resemble an ordinary garrison unit."
"The intelligence is correct," Colonel Holzer answered crisply. "They are indeed from the Kingdom of Romania's Home Defense Brigade."
"Just a Home Defense Brigade?"
"Yes."
Morin stared at him.
Colonel Holzer seemed to see Morin's confusion; his tone became somewhat helpless as he explained.
"Colonel Morin, I understand your confusion... but the Romanians' situation is different."
With Colonel Holzer's explanation, Morin finally realized that those on the mountain were indeed not ordinary border defense troops. Both he and the Saxon Army General Staff had fallen into a sort of inertial thinking.
In this world, the armies of most nations were divided into structures like field forces, home defense forces, reserve forces, or militias.
Field forces were generally the true main body, while home defense forces were completely second-rate troops used to fill the lines at the borders.
But for the Kingdom of Romania, the situation was somewhat different. Due to the terrain, their home defense forces had each mastered the skills of mountain warfare...
Colonel Holzer pointed to the mountain in the distance, still smoking with dust from shattered rocks.
"Their Home Defense Brigades, especially the two deployed along the Carpathian Mountains, have dealt with us for many years."
"The soldiers of these units are mostly local mountain dwellers, growing up in this terrain since childhood. They know every ridge, every gully, every cave where a person can hide like the back of their hand."
"Add to that years of repeated firefights and battles over positions with our mountain infantry... how weak do you think they could be?"
Colonel Holzer's tone carried an indescribable complexity.
"To put it bluntly, these garrison brigades were beaten into shape by us... Of course, the reverse is also true. The several mountain infantry regiments of our Austro-Hungarian Empire were also ground into shape by them."
Morin leaned back against the rock, the pen in his hand still.
He glanced at the blinking [Information] and [Intelligence] pages on the right side of the system interface, which had finally updated.
A massive amount of detailed information regarding the Kingdom of Romania's Home Defense forces began flooding the screen. It could truly be said that "their combat records were verifiable"...
Morin quickly scanned through it. The slight contempt he had harbored for this unit completely vanished.
This was fundamentally not an ordinary "Home Defense Force," but just like the troops deployed on the border by India in his previous world, they were bona fide mountain warfare experts...
What these Kingdom of Romania Home Defense Brigades lacked was heavy equipment and experience in large-scale field battles. But in the realm of mountain defense... they were stronger than the regular field forces of many nations.
After withdrawing his attention from the system interface, Morin looked at the core officers beside him.
"Gentlemen, I think our previous operational plan needs to be revised."