Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 692: The Penal Battalion

TL: Rui88

Schroeder was elected as the commander of the Ordo army.

Catherine, burdened by guilt over the fall of the Blackstone Plains, firmly declined the position. She believed that an old general more familiar with the kingdom’s north should serve as the supreme commander.

Thus, the position fell squarely on Schroeder’s shoulders. He had previously been a general at Watcher’s Fortress and later served in the high command of the Alda army; he was the popular choice.

After discussion, the Ordo army decided to take advantage of the fact that the orc army had not yet established a firm foothold and first recapture Agate Fortress, located southeast of Silvermoon Fortress, to form a pincer-like position.

The assembled armies of the various lords numbered nearly twenty thousand men. They began to advance eastward, announcing a counter-offensive against the orcs.

Agate Fortress was a medium-sized city. According to intelligence, it was garrisoned by two orc chieftains’ companies and a small number of human rebels who had defected to them.

Unfortunately, the first attempt to scale the walls did not succeed.

Because the troops used were all those who had just retreated from the Blackstone Plains, this was within Schroeder’s expectations. His real purpose was to test the orcs’ defensive capabilities.

But just as the first wave of soldiers was withdrawing for a brief rest, the orcs, despite being at an absolute numerical disadvantage, boldly and secretly opened the city gates and charged the retreating human army with their cavalry.

The battlefield was instantly thrown into chaos. Fleeing soldiers ran everywhere, which in turn hindered the Royal Knights who were advancing to the rescue.

Schroeder was furious and immediately called a halt to the operation.

Without a doubt, the preceding series of defeats had left a severe shadow on these routed soldiers.

If military discipline was not first restored, all else was out of the question.

“Form ranks!” “Get in line, quickly!”

Under the continuous, stern shouts and whip-cracks from the Alda soldiers, the previously chaotic crowd soon formed neat lines.

Schroeder stood on a high platform, glaring sternly at the men below. His wide-open eyes were like the maw of a dragon, ready to spew fire at any moment.

This chieftain’s company from the Maple Leaf Territory of the Blackstone Plains was supposed to cover the retreat, but they fled the moment the orc cavalry appeared. They bore the primary responsibility for the failure of the entire siege operation.

Other units had all suffered casualties to varying degrees, but this army, miraculously, had not lost a single man.

Their lord had gone missing in the series of battles prior, and the one now in command was a knight who had served under the former lord. Under Schroeder’s strict order, he too stood in the ranks.

“Your performance on the battlefield has brought shame upon all of Ordo!”

Schroeder was like an enraged old lion.

“Now, starting from the first man, count off from one to ten, over and over. Every man who calls out ‘ten,’ step forward!”

No one dared to defy his will. The soldiers began to count off in sequence.

Just as Schroeder had commanded, every man who called out “ten” stepped forward, or rather, was dragged out—including the knight responsible for commanding the unit.

A full one hundred men stood in a line, watched by the surrounding crowd.

All the officers and soldiers of the Ordo army had been assembled to watch from the perimeter of the field. People whispered among themselves, guessing how Schroeder would punish them.

A lashing with a whip? Or perhaps a red-hot iron to brand their bodies with a mark of shame?

The hundred men who had been pulled out grew restless. Some among them had already realized that some disaster was about to befall them.

“What are you doing? Schroeder, you have no right to do this! We have our own lord!”

The knight serving as commander sensed that something was terribly wrong and immediately voiced his protest.

“Aim!”

An order was given from the high platform, and the Alda soldiers supervising them immediately raised their guns.

After several days of contact, everyone now knew that the weapons the Alda soldiers carried with them every day were their instruments of combat.

A sound of terror erupted from the field. No one could have imagined that this old knight could be so ruthless.

“No!”

“Heavenly Father!”

The men being aimed at panicked, crying out and begging for mercy. Some took to their heels and ran, trying to escape back into the ranks.

The knight broke down and screamed, “I want to see Her Highness Catherine! I want to see Her Highness Catherine!”

But Schroeder had no intention of giving him a chance. He immediately commanded, “Fire!”

“Schroeder, I curse you… ah!”

After the dense, popping sound of gunfire, the field was suddenly filled with white smoke.

An entire line of men was thus executed by firing squad. Their bodies lay strewn across the ground, a mixture of blood and brain matter splattered on the earth.

Such a terrifying scene instantly stunned everyone watching.

A full hundred men had been executed. They had not died by the weapons of the orcs, but were killed by their own people.

They looked at Schroeder on the high platform. The once-stately old knight now seemed to be the very incarnation of a demon.

The remaining nine hundred men from the Maple Leaf Territory were frightened out of their wits, standing frozen in place, trembling.

The battle-ready Alda soldiers surrounded the area with weapons in hand. A single word from Schroeder and they could slaughter them all.

“Listen up, you cowards. I can tolerate defeat; that is a common occurrence on the battlefield.”

The old knight looked at them coldly.

“But I will absolutely not tolerate a defeat caused by a disregard for discipline, especially the kind of behavior where you scatter without any resistance, ignoring the safety of your comrades. I should have executed all of you, but for the sake of the merciful Heavenly Father, I will give you one more chance.”

“I will establish a new combat unit—the Penal Battalion. All who have shown cowardice in battle will be assigned to the Penal Battalion to carry out the most dangerous combat missions. The only way to leave the Penal Battalion is to take the life of an enemy, or to offer up your own…”

Everyone present held their breath, silently listening to Schroeder’s admonition.

Even the armies from other territories did not dare to make a sound. They knew that these words were not only directed at those who had already erred.

Now, a shadow greater than the orc army loomed over everyone’s heart.

…

“Honorable Grand Chieftain! Please, drink.”

In the grand hall of a luxurious castle, the head of the Bradley Family, Duke Dusan Bradley, respectfully offered a personally poured glass of wine to Abal.

His hand, holding the wine glass, remained suspended in the air—Abal did not reach out to take it.

A strange awkwardness arose, and an obvious look of embarrassment appeared on the grand duke’s face.

Only then did Abal finally reach out and take the glass.

“My dear Duke, I was just momentarily lost in thought, contemplating the next phase of our plan of action. I trust you do not mind.”

The Grand Ch chieftain finished speaking and burst into laughter. The orc generals filling the room laughed along with him, and for a moment, the hall was filled with a clamor of voices.

The members of the Bradley Family, however, wore expressions of resentment.

“Ah, ah… of course. The Grand Chieftain is occupied with a myriad of affairs. It is truly admirable how your mind is always so diligently at work.”

The Duke of Bradley said with a smile, seeming completely unconcerned by what had just happened.

He had no choice but to be so subservient.

In the recent series of battles, he had personally witnessed the might of the orc army.

He had thought he was bringing in a partner, but now the other party clearly had the upper hand.

This put the duke in a very difficult position.