After receiving the order from the regimental headquarters, the 1st Company of the 1st Battalion also left the trenches and swapped defensive positions with other units of the 93rd Infantry Regiment.
Although everyone still didn't know what mission they were going to participate in next, they were long tired of confronting the Britannians in this freezing weather every day. Being able to go to another place to execute a mission at this time was obviously more attractive...
Who knows what kind of expressions they would have when they learned they were going to Paris.
The 1st Company Commander, Kahn, acting like a farmer herding ducks, urged loudly behind the group of soldiers who were climbing onto the trucks.
"Move faster! Don't dawdle like a bunch of girls! Secure the heavy machine guns properly! If they fall off halfway, I'll tie you to the bumper and drag you!"
The logistics problems for this mission would be handled by the large forces near Paris, so the 1st Company didn't have much to prepare.
So very quickly, the entire company and the reinforced units finished assembling and swiftly boarded the trucks.
Incidentally, Klaus, who originally served as the adjutant of the 1st Battalion, strongly requested to participate in this mission.
However, because Wolf, the former 2nd Company Commander of the Instruction Assault Battalion who was dispatched to the 1st Battalion to serve as Battalion Commander, refused to let him go even if he died—a resentful Klaus ultimately had to give up.
In his words, it was letting that guy Kahn, the 1st Company Commander, off easy.
"When he graduated from the military academy and was assigned here, I was the one who taught him how to discipline the troops!"
"And now he actually gets to go on a mission with the Regimental Commander, this is mutiny!"
Morin stood by the roadside, looking at this group of veterans who had fought their way out of the Aragonese civil war following him, feeling somewhat more at ease in his heart.
Going to a hellhole like Paris this time, bringing those newly supplemented recruits was still unreliable. Only these ruthless characters who had dealt with undead creatures could hold the line.
Sometime later, the convoy arrived at the railway hub near Buchy.
This was the main artery of the First Army Group, handling countless supplies transferred from the rear every day.
And on that heavily guarded siding, a steel behemoth belching black smoke was quietly crouching on the rails.
That was the "Odin," which had completed basic repairs.
But Morin wasn't in a hurry to catch up with an old friend because Major Nicolai was already waiting for him in front of a campaign tent not far away.
Morin jumped out of the car, had Kahn form up the troops, then took off his helmet, held it under his arm, and strode over.
Lifting the heavy canvas door curtain, a wave of warm air mixed with the smell of tobacco hit his face—this was also a uniform characteristic of almost all campaign tents after entering winter.
Inside the tent, besides Nicolai and five Section III operatives who were sorting out equipment, sat a middle-aged man wearing an exquisite deep blue robe.
This man was probably in his forties, um... his hairline was somewhat dangerously receding, as expected.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose and was carefully wiping his fingers with a handkerchief, seeming to have just touched something dirty.
Seeing Morin come in, Major Nicolai, a guy certified by Morin as a "chain smoker," immediately snuffed out the cigarette butt in his hand and put on that unique professional fake smile of a "spy chief."
Morin felt he had seen this kind of smile often in domestic spy TV dramas in his previous life...
"Ah, Lieutenant Colonel Morin, I didn't expect you to be so punctual. I originally thought you would need more time to assemble the troops..."
Major Nicolai smiled while turning sideways and pointing to that middle-aged man:
"Let me introduce you. This is Master Fritz Haber from the Royal Academy of Magitech Research, a Tier-4 Conjuration School mage, and also the inventor of... the synthetic ammonia technology."
"Master Haber, this is the person I mentioned to you, the youngest army field officer in the Empire, the commander of the Imperial Guard Assault Instruction Unit, Lieutenant Colonel Friedrich Morin."
Morin's hand, which was originally preparing to unbutton his overcoat due to the rising temperature, paused in mid-air for half a second.
Fritz Haber.
If it wasn't just someone with the same name, this name was thunderous in the world before his transmigration...
Or rather, equally infamous and highly decorated.
His left hand synthesizing ammonia fed half the earth's population, and his right hand initiating chemical warfare sent thousands of soldiers to hell.
In this world, this gentleman was actually a Conjuration School mage?
And hearing Nicolai's not-so-proficient introduction, the "synthetic ammonia technology" in this world also seemed to be created by him.
This meant the Saxon Empire's production of explosives and fertilizers had already made a qualitative leap. No wonder although he was only a Tier-4 mage, he could be treated as a treasure by the Royal Academy of Magitech Research.
Well, of course... this was also inextricably linked to the weakness of the Saxon Empire's magical strength.
"A pleasure to meet you, Master Haber." Morin extended his hand without changing his expression, "I have long looked forward to meeting you..."
Master Haber also stood up and shook hands with Morin.
"Just an empty reputation..."
Haber's voice was full of that unhurried feeling typical of scholars and mages. He pushed his glasses up, his gaze behind the lenses looking Morin up and down with some curiosity:
"On the contrary, Lieutenant Colonel, you are the one I have 'long looked forward to meeting'... Regarding the many battle achievements of you and the instruction unit on the front line, I've heard them so much in the laboratory in Dresden that I can recite them backward."
"I am very curious why Section III would send a big shot like you to participate in this kind of frontline operation?"
Morin let go of his hand, glanced at Haber, then looked at Major Nicolai, and asked directly:
"The place we are going to this time might be even more dangerous than the frontline battlefield. Once any unexpected situation occurs, no one can guarantee they will retreat completely unscathed."
In Morin's view, since the Saxon Empire had taken a completely different path in terms of magitech, technical giants of Haber's level should be locked in a mage tower in Dresden to fiercely climb the technology tree.
Throwing him into Paris, which had been ravaged by the "Undead Scourge," was somewhat too careless.
Before Nicolai could open his mouth to explain, Master Haber himself started laughing first.
"Because of the Gauls' 'Sentinels,' Lieutenant Colonel Morin."
A different kind of look flashed in Haber's eyes. Morin was very familiar with this look carrying a trace of fanaticism; it was the greed of that kind of mad scientist in movies when seeing some unknown technology.
"I believe you, Lieutenant Colonel, are the clearest about the combat power of these 'Sentinels,' and the upper echelons of the Empire are also very interested in that technology of the Gauls... Making a spellcaster possess strength, agility, and reflexes far exceeding ordinary people, the ideas behind this are very inspiring."
Entering the discussion of relevant issues, Master Haber's tone also became serious:
"There are some things that are useless just by reading reports and looking at corpses sent back to the rear. Someone must personally go to that laboratory and look at the Gauls' original research data. As for safety issues..."
This Tier-4 mage glanced at Morin, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly: "I believe with the 'Mage Killer' and the elites under your command present, there should be no place in Paris we can't go, and no one can hurt me, unless you plan to sell me to the Britannians."
Good heavens, throwing one high hat (flattery) after another.
What else could Morin say?
He could only smile and nod: "Rest assured, Master Haber, as long as I am still standing, no one can hurt a single hair on your head."
Everyone briefly communicated the details of the operation again until the signal that the soldiers had finished boarding came from outside.
"Very good." Major Nicolai glanced at his watch, "Then let's set off. We need to reach the outskirts of Paris before dark."
Coming out of the campaign tent, Major Nicolai led Morin, Haber, and the others toward that long steel dragon parked on the siding.
Mottled traces left from previous battles could still be seen on the black armor plates of the "Odin" armored train.
For this "meritorious train," although they were scars, they were also its military medals, making everyone remember that world-destroying shot.
And standing next to the command car in the middle section of the train, an acquaintance wearing an army colonel's uniform was leaning against the handrail.
Waiting until Major Nicolai, Master Haber, and the others boarded the train, this "Train Captain" finally looked at Morin, revealing a familiar, hearty smile.
"Yo yo yo yo... Look who's here!"
Seeing Morin walk over, the Train Captain opened his arms and gave Morin a bear hug.
"Colonel Lucas! I didn't expect you to be sent over again this time~" Morin smiled and punched him twice on the back.
"Ha! I thought right from the start that the General Staff would send you and the instruction unit over, Morin!"
Lucas released Morin and looked him up and down:
"Tsk tsk tsk... Incredible, Lieutenant Colonel Morin, you're about to become a legendary figure on the front line."
After the two joked around for a few sentences, Morin asked: "By the way, Colonel, where is 'Gungnir'?"
He pointed to the position where that "Twelve-Stage Acceleration Magitech Cannon" was originally supposed to be mounted. Now, that place had been replaced by two armored artillery cars.
Mentioning this, Lucas's expression showed a bit of heartache.
"Don't mention it. That barrel was completely ruined after that shot at the Eiffel Tower. The bore was severely worn, and half the magitech coils were burned out... It's still undergoing major overhaul at the Rheinmetall factory now. They said even if it's repaired, its performance will be severely affected."
He patted the two newly attached cars behind him: "But don't worry. Although we don't have that 'Divine Spear' this time, these two armored artillery cars are also mounted with 150mm naval guns."
"Although the single-shot power can't compare to 'Gungnir,' the train is currently equipped with a total of 8 150mm naval guns. We can be considered a land cruiser now! Ready to fire a 'broadside salvo' at any time!"
Morin glanced at those few thick barrels and didn't continue asking anything. In urban combat or close-range support, to be honest, the power of this kind of high-rate-of-fire naval gun was sufficient, and it was also more flexible.
And it was impossible for Morin and the others to encounter enemies that required 'Gungnir' to solve every single time, right?
With a long whistle of the steam whistle, the "Odin" armored train slowly started. The huge steel wheels rolled over the rail joints, making rhythmic "clack-clack" sounds.
The scenery outside the window began to recede rapidly. Because it wasn't towing 'Gungnir,' the running speed of the armored train also increased a lot.
Heading south from the Buchy defense zone controlled by the First Army Group, one could originally still see some intact villages and woods. But as the train gradually penetrated deep into the control area of the Second Army Group, which was the zone near the periphery of Paris, the colors outside the window began to become monotonous.
Scorched black earth, dead trees... These were the scars left by the war, and also the inevitable path to hell.
Morin sat in the command car, holding a cup of "Master" coffee from Lucas's private stash, his gaze looking out the window heavily.
Master Haber sat opposite him, holding a thick magic notebook. He seemed uninterested in the desolate scenery outside the window, instead occasionally writing and drawing on the paper from time to time, muttering some things Morin couldn't understand.
So you see, Morin doesn't know everything either~
Major Nicolai, in the corner on the other side, was whispering with a few subordinates, proofreading maps and intelligence.
About three hours passed.
"Gentlemen, we are almost there."
Train Captain Lucas suddenly turned around and said to everyone: "Ahead is the blockade line on the outskirts of Paris."
Morin put down his cup, stood up, and walked to the observation window.
In the distance, under the grayish skyline, the silhouette of a massive and deathly still city gradually emerged.
Paris.
This romantic capital of Europa, which can be traced back to the 17th century and was called the "City of Light," now looked like the rotting corpse of a giant beast, quietly lying on the banks of the Seine River.
Even separated by thick armor, Morin seemed to be able to feel that sickening aura of negative energy coiled over the city.
That was the aftereffect left behind by the eruption of negative energy accumulated for hundreds of years in the Catacombs of Paris. Even after months of settling, it was still thick enough to not dissipate.
And on the city's skyline, that once most conspicuous steel landmark—the Eiffel Tower, had completely disappeared.
Leaving only a huge, crater-like remnant of a base, which was also the masterpiece left behind by "Gungnir" back then.
"Truly... spectacular destruction."
Haber had also stepped to the observation window at some point, pushed up his glasses, his tone indistinguishable between regret or admiration:
"The Gauls conducted a crazy experiment at the cost of their capital, only it unfortunately failed."
"If they had succeeded, the current situation and the enemies we face might not be like this," Morin replied indifferently.
The train began to decelerate, and the ear-piercing sound of brakes rang out.
The "Odin" slowly drove into a temporary station tightly controlled by the Saxon army.
This was originally a small station outside the city of Paris, and now it had been transformed into a small forward base for the Second Army Group.
An armored airship bearing the insignia of the Saxon Air Force and the tactical number "L19" hovered in mid-air, the beams of its searchlights sweeping back and forth through the gray fog formed after the manifestation of negative energy.
On the ground, heavily armed Saxon soldiers were on alert everywhere.
The doors opened, and the cold wind mixed with that unique smell poured in.
"Everyone disembark! Check your equipment!"
Amidst a clamor of orders, Morin jumped down onto the platform.
As soon as he landed, his gaze was attracted by a group of strange people on the other side of the station.
That was a team of about fifty or more people.
They wore medieval-style white surcoats embroidered with crosses. Shiny breastplates and shoulder armor were revealed under the surcoats. On their heads, they wore white-painted dog-faced bascinets that covered their entire faces, and one-handed swords or other cold weapons hung at their waists.
But forming a sharp contrast with this retro attire were the rifles slung diagonally across their backs, as well as those leather bandoliers on their bodies.
Classical and modern, holy and murderous, two completely different styles blended together on them.
"Who are those people?" Morin frowned and turned to Major Nicolai beside him.
"Don't be nervous, Lieutenant Colonel, those are friendly forces..."
Major Nicolai followed his gaze, a look of "I knew you would ask" appearing on his face.
He lowered his voice and explained:
"People from the Papal Theocracy. After the Battle of Paris ended, contacts between the Holy See and us became increasingly frequent. Later, upon our 'invitation,' they sent a 'Neutral Purification Unit' responsible for dealing with the negative energy in the city of Paris."