At this moment, the headquarters of the Third Division at the main peak of Inkman Mountain.

To prevent being destroyed by Russian artillery, the division command had long moved from the original open area at the top of the mountain into the interior of the fort for operations.

However, Trocch, the chief of staff actually commanding the French Third Division, was not in the fort commanding, but was standing in the front row of the trench, observing through binoculars the Russian soldiers advancing from all directions towards the mountainside of Inkman Mountain and the military flags raised behind them.

"Tsk tsk! Two more regiments! Just the vanguard troops of Russia are almost equal to half of our entire division!" Trocch praised the new flags through his binoculars, and then turned to ask the captain of the Guard Division next to him: "Five regiments, nearly ten thousand men! Do you have the confidence to defeat them?"

The captain responded enthusiastically to Major General Trox, "No matter how many of them come, I have the confidence to annihilate them all! General Troche, please give the order! I am willing to lead the charge!"

"Very well!" Major General Trox nodded with satisfaction, appreciating the current state of the Guard Division: "You must remember that you are one of the finest troops in His Majesty’s hands, so I do not allow even a single coward in such an excellent army.

Go tell your units that anyone who dares to flee without a retreat order from the division will be severely punished! If a soldier runs, the company commander and battalion commander of his unit will also be punished. If a company flees, the battalion commander and you will likewise be punished, with no upper limit to this.

Understand?"

"Understood!" the captain repeated forcefully, "General Troche, please issue the directive! I will surely lead my regiment to crush the Russian Army at the foot of the mountain!"

"Don’t be hasty!" Major General Trox raised his hand to stop him: "The reason His Majesty and the Marshal deployed so many cannons here is to avoid close combat with the Russian Empire as much as possible.

Let them taste the power of artillery first!"

Under Major General Trox’s orders, there was no commotion in the trenches of the French Army. Everyone held their breath, watching the Russian Army, which in turn sprinted desperately towards the mountain top of Inkman Mountain, increasing their speed.

When the Russian Imperial Army was less than 600 meters from the summit, with the French Army in the first trench only 200 meters away, the artillery within the fortress at the summit began firing towards the direction of the Russian Imperial Army under the command of the artillerymen.

The continuous roar emitted from the summit of Inkman Mountain caused the earth to shake like an earthquake. This tremor, transmitted through the ground, was felt by every soldier on Inkerman Mountain, as massive shells were spewed out by the Steel Beast, soaring into the sky with energy capable of easily ripping apart hundreds of strongmen, and in an instant after the shells departed, an orange-red glow appeared, but quickly vanished, leaving only white smoke shrouding the fortress.

The shells, propelled by strong blasts toward the heavens, reached the highest point along their pre-designed trajectories, then rapidly descended, like meteors, crashing towards the Russian troops.

Even Russian soldiers, long experienced with the pain brought by howitzer bombardments, had no means to counter them. Soldiers in the front line could only shout "Ura" and accelerate their run toward the first trench, but their attempt was shattered by the French soldiers lying in wait inside the trench. Many Russian soldiers were struck directly in fatal areas by the French soldiers and killed.

If the Russian Imperial Army at the forefront could still opt to be shot or wounded by the French, the Russian soldiers in the middle section of the column were out of luck.

Shells falling from the sky... no, right, falling directly around the midsection of the Russian Imperial soldiers, the explosions killing many Russian soldiers around them.

Of course, being instantly killed by artillery could be considered a cleaner way to die, but those "lucky" enough to have only their limbs blown off were the most pitiful.

Those with severed limbs must not only endure the pain of losing limbs but also pray that during the Russian Imperial retreat, someone would have the mercy to take them along.

Even if they were lucky enough to return to the camp, they would have to face a series of surgeries.

And the survival rate of each surgery in the 19th century (here specifically referring to military surgery) was about 10%, with slightly better doctors about 25%.

In other words, the vast majority of soldiers, after a painful spell on the operating table (though the Russian Empire had ether as an anesthetic, it was not something regular people could use; most soldiers could only enjoy some minor anesthesia by having a little vodka before surgery), would once again endure the agony of wound infections.

Since, during this period, aside from France’s mandate that medical equipment be sterilized at high temperatures, no other country was willing to take the time to sterilize medical tools, with many instruments being reused; doctors with some sense of integrity would only give them a basic cleaning in warm water.

Even if Russian soldiers gritted their teeth through a series of tortures, they would be forced to retire from the Russian Empire because of their injuries.

Retirement from the Russian Empire was not like the 21st century retirement; there was no pension, meaning that once a Russian Imperial soldier retired, all economic sources would be cut off.

The soldier himself would not only be physically disabled but also lack any skills.

In such circumstances, it would be easier to simply die.

"Save me... God!"

"Ah... someone please come!"

...

The once peaceful battlefield turned chaotic after the howitzer in the fort fired, with cries of agony and pleas for mercy filling the air. The entire battlefield suddenly transformed into hell, with Russian soldiers struggling painfully within it, while French soldiers in the trenches looked on in horror at the tragic situation of the Russian soldiers not far from them.

As for those Russian Imperial soldiers in the rear, they were undoubtedly the luckiest, having yet to experience the "baptism" of artillery shells. They halted and began to retreat.

The entire line gradually collapsed as the Russian Empire continuously withdrew. Major General Trox, seeing this situation, quickly ordered the colonel beside him, "Sound the charge! Attack!"

The colonel, upon receiving the order, immediately turned and shouted loudly to the soldiers in the rear trenches, "Sound the charge! Attack!"

Accompanied by a resounding bugle call, the French soldiers, clad in blue and white buttoned uniforms and wearing blue flat round hats, charged out of the trenches in a mighty wave towards the collapsing Russian Imperial Army.

The colonel, leading at the front, quickly reached the Russian Yekaterina Corps soldiers, and facing a young and terrified Russian soldier, mercilessly drew his longsword and stabbed forcefully. The soldier, who had no time to react, was instantly pierced through by the colonel.

Several soldiers around him gritted their teeth to avenge their comrade but were sliced and shot down by the onrushing French soldiers.

Pulling the longsword from the soldier’s body, the colonel let out a victorious roar, "Long live France! Long live the Empire!"

The surrounding soldiers also shouted the slogan "Long live France! Long live the Empire!" with fervor.

Perhaps because of the slogan, Russian Imperial soldiers visibly lost morale. Soldiers who were once valiant and combat-ready turned completely spiritless under the high-pitched shouts.

A small portion of Russian soldiers began dropping their weapons and retreating. Influenced by these few soldiers, the entire Russian Imperial frontline was severely torn.

Like a sharp spear, the French Guard Division (actually only a regiment, with a battalion as the vanguard) stabbed fiercely into the five Russian Imperial regiments (due to the terrain of Inkman Mountain, the actual forces clashing were less than five battalions, roughly a regiment and a half, with the remaining troops still in the rear), quickly isolating and encircling members of the Yekaterina and Slelengins Corps.

The remaining regiments, seeing this, immediately exercised their swift-as-the-wind "fine tradition," continually retreating backward.

Soon, the Yekaterina and Slelengins Corps, surrounded and isolated by the French Army, became abandoned.

In despair, disregarding the French troops’ offers of surrender, they attacked the surrounding French soldiers, only to be directly annihilated by them.

On the front line, French soldiers remained tightly locked onto the remaining three and a half regiments, while the terrified Russian Army dared not resist in any manner.

As Commander Chu Yunfei from Bright Sword said, even fifty thousand pigs wouldn’t be caught in three days by the communists.

As a collective species, when facing the breakdown of group order, knowing that resistance could ensure survival, many are often unwilling to be the spearhead due to self-interest thinking.

During the escape, hundreds of Russian Imperial soldiers did not die at the hands of the French, but rather in the stampede.

Until the Cossack Cavalry arrived for relief, the French soldiers ceased the pursuit, quickly forming a horizontal formation to confront the Cossack Cavalry. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

The Cossack Cavalry, mounted on horses, patrolled back and forth for a moment before turning to leave.

The French soldiers also formed a column and retreated, returning to their trenches in just an hour and a half.

"We have won!" Shouted Major General Trox, raising his hand, his whole body bathed in enemy blood.

All the French soldiers on the Inkerman Mountain front loudly echoed, "We have won!"

Just as everyone was immersed in joy, an officer in a green uniform appeared before Trox, his expression frantic, saying to Major General Trox, "Your Excellency, please save us!"

"What happened?" Major General Trox asked, his face stern, addressing the Sardinian officer before him.

If the Sardinian’s guarded left wing truly fell, the French Army might face a fierce battle.

The Sardinian officer told Major General Trox, their troops suffered a sudden attack from the Russian Empire and fell into chaos.

Even though Marshal La Malamor led a counterattack, the surprise nature of the event prevented gathering enough forces.

Thus, after the two Hunter Battalions under the Second Division were defeated by the reinforced Russian soldiers, the entire trench was in jeopardy.

Currently, the Russian Imperial Army is continually reinforcing the left wing; they need support from Inkman Mountain.