Ultimate Weapon of Magic and Science

"The world is watching Albian's warriors."

Standing at the bow of the landing craft in the most standard military posture, Major General Parkinson expressed his ambition. The commander of the advance army wore a full set of "Venice Red" military dress and hung all his medals-praise the mother god, the general did not participate in many actual battles, Albion’s medals are not as diverse as the public, otherwise he will keep the medals A painter who hangs on his pants and squats on the beach to draw a sketch does not have to worry about carefully sketching every medal.

Not far away, with the accompaniment of rumbling artillery and military music, riflemen wearing triangle caps and grenadiers wearing bishop crown caps and guards lined up on the beach, and red long dragons extended inland...

"No one can stop this army, the world is at our feet."

Major General John Lambert was equally proud and proud. He also wore a conspicuous officer's dress and wore all the medals. In order to highlight the position of the commander, Major General Lambert was slightly behind.

"Soon, we will be able to enjoy lunch in Riga."

"Yes, and..."

Parkinson pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the two small needles.

"3 hours and 28 minutes is enough for us to end this battle and hope there is fresh caviar in the Riga fortress."

"Of course, there is vodka."

Lambert complimented, and the officials on the side laughed a few times.

They have no doubt that they will usher in a better future. After spending the most dangerous beach landing safely and without any counterattack, the major general's speech on public power has entered the hearts of every Albian soldier.

"...How can the cowardly, long-haired hybrids outperform my brave and fearless kingdom warriors in a battle that highlights the will of the soldiers? And no matter our army has nearly 30,000 people. Even with only 700 advance troops, you can also fight With one hundred of them, kill the long-haired hybrids to pieces without leaving..."

There is no suspense at the end, and victory and glory belong to Albion.

At the same time, similar thoughts also appeared in the minds of others, and Mattias Hezennoll, a first-level noncommissioned officer lying in the woods in the distance, muttered in his heart while covering a puffy face Entering the crosshairs, his head quickly traversed the wind speed, wind direction, ballistic deviation and other values, then he put his finger on the trigger and began to exert force...

Snapped!

The bullet did not fly out of the barrel. Major General Parkinson still published a long speech with high spirits. Matthias hugged his head and looked tearfully at his companion, supervisor and mentor, Major Hans Conig.

"Sergeant, what do you want to do?"

The major, who was angry, just rewarded a burst of chestnuts hanging in the air. Ready to come back at any time.

"Sorry sir. I'm just subconscious..."

Another burst of chestnut.

"Shut up! I didn't give the order. Take care of your fingers!"

Watching Mattias retract with full of grievances, the major sighed softly and continued to monitor the movement of the Reds with the artillery mirror.

There should be at least 700 meters of space between them and the group of general-grade targets. At this distance, although the bullet still has sufficient killing kinetic energy, the accuracy is difficult to guarantee. What's more, Matthias uses a semi-automatic sniper rifle, despite the use of a specially manufactured high-precision competition-grade heavy barrel, the use of special high-precision sniper special ammunition, and is equipped with 4 times the scope, with high cost in exchange for accuracy Greatly improved. However, due to the inherent defects of the semi-automatic rifle, it is still unknown whether this distance can hit first.

Once missed, humans will greet them enthusiastically, everything from flying beasts to heavy artillery is possible. Although the major is brave, he does not like to take such unnecessary risks.

More importantly, their job is not to kill the oversized target, at least not here...

"Clean up."

Looking away from the artillery mirror, the major ordered:

"Let's go back to the fortress."

Two hours later, Zaitsev, the new soldier of the Principality, was awakened. As soon as he opened his eyes, the officer’s vicious face was posted.

"Move up! You slackers, **** animals, what are you doing lying down, waiting for me to whip you with a whip?! Get ready, hairless monkeys are coming!"

An angry roar exploded in the confused soldier's head. He was picked up and pushed hard against the side wall of the trench, and then another foot was hit on the buttocks.

The pain caused the dull brain to start functioning again, cleaning the barrel with a strip, pouring gunpowder and bullets, squeezing, and then turning on the trigger-after doing these things, Zaitsev held the rifle and squatted into the side wall of the trench , Listen to the roar and explosion of shells just like other soldiers stationed in outlying positions.

The roaring sounds continued, seemingly endless. Even if they could not see it with their own eyes, the soldiers could imagine what a hell-like scene was outside. Unlike other troops, the new soldiers witnessed and felt the power of intensive bombardment in the exercise field, and had already passed the stage of being bombarded to scare urine pants. They knew very well that unless the shells directly hit the trenches, they would pose a lethal threat to them. It is the best choice to squat like it is now.

Precisely because of their "experience" in this area, they just jumped out of the freight car filled with the smell of animals last night. Before they could catch their breath, they were rushed to the front line.

The generals’ ideas are simple. The fortress garrison and the new army are also rookie troops, but the new army is better equipped and knows how to deal with the shelling. It is more reassuring for them to station in important areas, at least not in the first place. Something like a troop collapse happened in the round.

It should be said that the generals were right. During the half-hour shelling, no one of the new soldiers ran around. They panicked with a look on their face and crouched at the bottom of the trench, waiting for the shelling to end.

This time was about half an hour, but Zaitsev and his companions felt as if it had been a century. Not long after the last shell exploded, a whistle sounded with the roar of "ready to fight".

Without any delay, the soldiers stained with dust on the gray stood on the ladder, the bench and the stacked ammunition boxes, protruded their heads out of the trench, and raised their guns at the red human wall hundreds of meters away.

After a quick drumbeat, an officer in a magnificent uniform withdrew his saber. The tip of the knife pointed in the direction of Zaitsev and shouted.

attack.

Zaitsev guessed that he meant this, and after that shout, the flutist and drummer started their performances, and with the beat of the "Grenadier March", the Albian phalanx slowed towards the first trench Slowly advance, as Lin's bayonet shines in the sun.

It's really strange.

A question was crossed in Zaitsev's head: Although the bayonet was very dazzling, Officer Albion was more dazzling. They have clean and straight uniforms, and each medal is polished to be worthy of recognition. Then they put these things on their bodies and stand in the first row with the command knife, making themselves an extra large target...

Maybe they came to participate in the military parade instead of fighting, the soldiers can only tell themselves this

"Everyone, aim!"

The sergeant pulled out his pistol and ordered loudly. To dismiss the distractions from his thoughts, the young Orion of the Ural Mountains put an Albion officer into the gun and put his finger on the trigger.

A large amount of fragments of memory broke out suddenly in his head: many years ago, the story of an old hunter, a child and a wolf.

"shot!!"

Zaitsev pulled the trigger~www.wuxiaspot.com~ The officer fell suddenly towards the rear.

No cheers, no celebration, he backed up at the fastest speed, began to clean the barrel, gunpowder and bullets, compacted, and waited for the third row to push down, immediately stepped forward, digging a hole in the head of another officer . Retreat again...

Suddenly hit, the red phalanx paused, and then continued to advance at the same speed. At this distance, the hit rate of the musket is almost negligible. Even if there are thousands of rifles firing at the same time, the unlucky egg of the rifle still does not exceed double digits. The queue continued to march with the military music unwaveringly. The Albian people silently suffered the loss, approaching the trench with a chilling and tidy pace.

Soon... in a few minutes at most, they will enter the most powerful distance, flood the enemy with the first round of salvos so far, and then launch a white-edged charge to completely defeat the cowards hiding in the trenches.

The officers of Albion showed a triumphant smile, and they had seen the dawn of victory.

At this moment, the explosion occurred at the feet of the soldiers in red. (To be continued...)