Craters dotted the battlefield in countless numbers, varying in size. The heavily deformed trenches intertwined like a thread, stringing some of the craters together to resemble a pearl ne when viewed from above.


    Within this ne of craters, an uncountable number of soldiers huddled, bracing for the impact ofrge-caliber shells that pounded the ground near them.


    With each explosion, the earth beside them quivered, followed by falling mud and stones that ttered against their helmet rims.


    Most of these soldiers were not wearing steel helmets, but rather caps with visors; they carried canvas ammunition pouches at their sides, filled with bullets.


    As shells fell on both sides of their position, numerous fragments rained down, and the smoke raised by the sts nketed the sky, giving the battlefield the appearance of the end of the world.


    The bombardment fromrge-caliber heavy artillery was terrifying for every soldier. Each firing of these 200 millimeter, or even 300 millimeter, heavy guns carried with them the force of utter annihtion.


    In just two days, the Gobur Kingdom had poured 10,000rge-caliber shells onto the border, Shireck''s 130 millimeter howitzers hammering Dorne Kingdom''s positions as if they cost nothing.


    Each shell explosion in the mud created a massive crater; due to the high density of craters, some ovepped, turning the earlier craters into crescents with sessive sts.


    Along the edges of these craters were the corpses of Gobur soldiers as well as those from the Dorne Kingdom, some torn to shreds by the bombardment, others still intact.


    Many soldiers were mutted beyond recognition, their remaining halves missing arms or legs, while ragged uniforms hung from the twisted barbed wire, and deformed Shireck rifles and S3 rifles were scattered everywhere.


    In these days, no one dared waste precious troops by pouring more into this death-ridden battlefield.@@novelbin@@


    Everyone hid in trenches, using their rear cannons to "greet" the enemy''s ancestors from afar.


    Now, it was the Gobur Kingdom''s cannons that roared, hundreds of guns firing in session, sending their shells near the trench positions of the Dorne Kingdom.


    Amidst the artillery fire, on the Dorne Kingdom defense line, in the middle of a trench, an officer sat yawning in a chair inside amand post reinforced with concrete.


    In reality, during such times, it was unthinkable for the enemy to charge to their death, so his remaining here was akin to being "on duty."


    Themand post had a meter-thickyer of concrete overhead, which offered safety unless hit directly by a shell.


    Because it was rtively safe, many supplies were stored here, and in some cool corners even hunks of dried meat were hanging.


    Empty ammunition boxes were filled with various canned goods. As this was a ce reserved for officers, the setup was noticeably more casual.


    A makeshift table of neatly stacked ammunition boxes was covered with a map of the war zone, with an iron cup and gasmp ced carelessly on top.


    A gasoline engine chugged away ceaselessly, its mor blending in with the thunder of artillery without seeming too jarring.


    The engine drove a generator that spun tirelessly, supplying an unstable stream of electricity to the working light bulbs and the telegraph machine.


    It was daytime, and the noise from the artillery made the generator''s operation feasible. At night, the area relied on gasmps for illumination or simply went dark.


    After all, noise and light could attract enemy artillery; staying hidden was the golden rule for surviving longer on the battlefield.


    "Report!" A nonmissioned officer with a briefcase squeezed into themand post, shook off the mud from his clothes, stood at attention, saluted, and handed the file to the duty officer: "Sir! This is the patrol report from the 2nd and 3rd Regiments."


    To confirm their own troops''bat effectiveness and have a better understanding of the soldiers under theirmand, regr patrol inspections were essential.


    Particrly under conditions of being shelled for hours every day, maintaining morale was an imperative task for everymander.


    The officer on duty took the report, nced at a few figures, then flipped to the previous day''s report forparison, and subsequently signed his name on the new report.


    The data from the two inspections showed little change, which was good news for him: this meant that the enemy hadn''t mounted a significant attack the previous day, and their own side hadn''t attacked the enemy positions either. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    Since each assault would cost the enemy at least 1,000 men, and their counterattacks would result in roughly the same number of casualties, the absence of such high loss figures indicated that no major offensive or counter-offensive had urred—a piece of good news.


    "When will our artillery counterattackmence?" Having signed his name, the officer put down his pen and asked.


    The nonmissioned officer stood at attention once again, then responded, "Report, sir! ording to the n, our artillery fire willmence in half an hour."


    "Will the infantry participate in the counterattack?" the duty officer asked once more, inquiring of the message-bearing nonmissioned officer.