Chapter 125: Battle Of The Century (3)

As the battle began to drastically sway in favour of the Luxenberg army, every section of the Fontaine Army was fighting desperately to ensure they were not defeated. They may have been overwhelmed and heavily disadvantaged, but that did not break their spirit. Everything turned to shit once a certain section was annihilated. 

The section that fell first was quite a shock for both armies. Neither side could have predicted it to fall first, especially when the centre section of the Fontaine Army was getting the worst of it. Many believed that this section would have held out the longest, so it was quite a shock for everyone when the Fontaine left flank fell.

The left flank of the Fontaine Army was under the command of Duke Geraldt Hirschmann, a brilliant defensive tactician. His second in command was none other than his son Gerhard, who was hoping to not only distinguish himself but redeem his failure during the siege of Joltz.

During the battle, they struggled like everyone else; however, for a few moments, it looked like the Fontaine soldiers were pushing back against the enemy. The reason for this was Gerhard. He led the cavalry charge and boosted the morale of the troops. Instead of succumbing to fear, Gerhard had stoked the embers of their courage.

While everyone else in their army struggled to hold their own, the forces under Duke Hirschmann remained firm. Even when the Luxenberg cavalry arrived to support their troops, the Fontaine soldiers did not buckle or yield. The formidable Marshal Lannes was beginning to worry that his troops were not losing the combat. However, his worries were put to rest with the death of a singular man.

One death caused the unravelling of the Fontaine left flank. The man responsible for this derailment was the same man who impassioned the soldiers. Young Gerhard Hirschmann. His death was the big momentum swing that the Luxenberg soldiers needed.

Gerhard had been in the thick of the battle; musket balls, lances, sabres, and bayonets were all flashing by him. His senses were heightened, and the adrenaline kick he felt was enough to power through any small cuts that had been inflicted upon him. He was deadly, a feint reminder of Duke Braun and Grand Duke Maldenberg's prowess.

He sifted through the battlefield, cutting down soldier after soldier after soldier. Fontaine soldiers revered him, while Luxenberg soldiers were cautious of him. All was looking good for Gerhard until he felt a warm sensation brewing in his chest. Taking a moment to check himself, Gerhard slid his hand under his shirt, it was warm and wet. When he pulled his hand out to inspect it, he was shocked to find it was stained with blood.

A skirmisher from the Luxenberg infantry was able to snipe him with his rifle. Its increased range proved to aid in remaining undetected. Gerhard looked to his father, who was watching from the rear. Duke Hirschmann paused for a moment, confused as to why his son had stopped fighting.

It was when he looked closer, that he realised the true horror about his son's stoppage. Blood was beginning to seep through the shirt, his wound becoming more noticeable to those around him. Nearby soldiers began to rush to his side, protecting him and hoping to escort him to safety.

Gerhard began to lose consciousness; all he could do was stare at his father and smile. His father was the only family he had for most of his life. They had an unbreakable bond, and Geraldt had faith that Gerhard was ready to take over for him if he died. 

Gerhard had used all his remaining willpower, to maintain his stability on his mount. Shortly afterwards, he fell from his mount, shocking everyone present. His death was disheartening for the Fontaine soldiers. The aura he exuded was inspiring for the men; without his presence, their hearts sank into their chests.

If the future of the Dukedom of Hirschmann was so easily killed, then the rest of them did not stand a chance. There was no one more devastated than Duke Hirschmann. His son died valiantly right before his eyes. It was a sight no parent would want to see. With Gerhard's death, the family legacy would end with the aging Duke Hirschmann.

No matter how much his adjutants tried, they could not get Duke Hirschmann to regain his composure. He was broken, mentally detaching himself from reality. With the commander removed from the battle, the Luxenberg forces steamrolled the area and crushed all that dared to get in their way.

From then on, the Luxenberg Army began to dominate. The centre section was next to fall. Due to the already unfavourable situation, they were already struggling, but their struggles were about to get worse as reinforcements from the conquered section arrived to support the Luxenberg soldiers. 

Simeon was losing all hope; Gerhard had died, and Duke Hirschmann was either dead or captured. His left flank had fallen, and now the centre section was overrun. Even the right flank was struggling. As he stood there watching the battle, his mind went blank; all he could think about was the mass amount of death he was witnessing.

It was his fault that they ended up in this position. He was the one to declare war. He was the one who failed to invade Kreighelm. He was the one to cower in Osterbon as his cities were conquered. Now, he would be responsible for the doom of his family and Grand Duchy.

Within an hour, the battle concluded. Death and decay were pungent as the soldiers combed the battlefield to retrieve their fallen and scavenge any supplies worth taking. Wounded men were carried off to hospital tents, while those whose injuries were minor had been treated on the battlefield.

Victor walked the battlefield, disheartened to see all the dead soldiers of his army. Their deaths were not in vain, for they had secured a huge victory today. The battle lasted for 5 hours and yet for Victor, it had felt like an eternity. He wished he could fight alongside his men, however, his advisors did not wish for him to suffer a similar fate to Gerhard.

"Could this truly be called a victory? (pause) All this death, was it really necessary? Could there have been a better way to avoid such loss?" Victor muttered to himself as he stared solemnly into the eyes of the fallen soldiers.

Although he had won, there was little satisfaction to be had. Many had died, and many more were wounded. Sons would not return to their mothers, and husbands would not return to their wives. Sadly, this was the reality of war. Victory could not be achieved without sacrifice.

When the sun began to set, a funeral was held for the fallen soldiers.