The Swiss and Florentine armies were just as confused.

“Why are the tractors here?”

Many of the tractors that had been hauling cannons all the way from Florence, through Milan, and to Pavia were now gathered at the very front line.

“What on earth are they for?”

“Come to think of it… those are the cargo haulers, aren’t they?”

“What are those useless things that can’t even pull their own weight doing here?”

The Swiss and Florentine soldiers tilted their heads in even greater confusion as they watched the tractors, which had suddenly gathered and were now spewing smoke and steam.

They had seen two main types of tractors so far. There were those with nothing but a cargo bed for fuel like coal or firewood, and then there were those with an additional large cargo compartment; one big enough to easily carry at least two or three hundred men. Whenever they moved, the Imperial army would load various supplies onto those tractors with the large cargo compartments.

“But something’s strange.”

As they looked at the tractors, the Florentine and Swiss soldiers began to feel a sense of dissonance. Large iron pillars were erected along the centerline of the cargo beds of the tractors in question, and thick steel bars connected these pillars. And on the sides of the cargo beds, large iron plates were fixed with hinges. Furthermore, large iron structures already occupied the inside of the cargo beds, so they could only carry a small amount of supplies.

The same went for the cannons. Other, smaller tractors and warhorses hauled the large-caliber cannons, but these massive machines only ever pulled the smallest cannons. This was why the Florentine and Swiss soldiers had sneered at them, calling them ‘useless things that can’t pull their own weight.’

“Why are they dragging around those things that can’t even pull their own weight?”

Of course, there were some who had their doubts. To them, the vehicles seemed completely inefficient. The enormous machines only pulled the smallest cannons, and every time the army halted its march for the day, soldiers and craftsmen would swarm them for maintenance.

The most peculiar thing was the soldiers. The soldiers who drove those tractors and the ones who marched alongside them all wore black uniforms, unlike the other Imperial soldiers. The weapons these soldiers carried were also strange. A third of them carried gapsik light hwachas, and another third carried long guns. The problem was the last third. They carried guns as small as the toy wooden rifles that the boys of Florence played with.

And now, these tractors, which seemed like a ‘waste of the Empire’s money,’ were all gathered at the very front line.

“But why are they all facing backward?”

That wasn’t the only thing the Florentine and Swiss armies couldn’t understand. When they had seen them on the march, the tractor’s cockpit was clearly at the front, followed by the engine room, and finally, that ‘useless’ cargo compartment. But the tractors standing before them now were the exact opposite. The cargo compartment was at the very front, with the engine room behind it, and the cockpit at the very end.

The strange things continued. At the front and back of the tractors were steel structures shaped like the prow of a ship, or rather, like the curved front of a snow sled’s runner. And the iron plates hanging on the sides of the cargo bed were connected to the iron bars in the center of the bed to create a roof.

Among those observing the sled-like runners, a few with keen eyes soon lit up.

“Huh? This? Doesn’t this look like those things that were in the cargo bed?”

“Hmm… what is it?”

While everyone was tilting their heads at the unresolved mystery, the Imperial officers clad in those peculiar black uniforms put whistles to their lips.

TWEEET!

“Uncover the tarps!”

At the officers’ command, soldiers, also wearing the same black uniforms, swarmed the tractors. As the tarps covering the front of the cargo compartments were removed, the eyes of the nearby Florentine and Swiss soldiers widened as far as they could go.

A short, thick cannon barrel protruded from the front of the tractor’s cargo compartment. On other vehicles, the muzzles of hwachas stuck out from the front and sides of the cargo bed.

TWEEET!

“All aboard!”

“All aboard!”

Once again, the whistles blew shrilly, and then the officers shouted, “All aboard!” The soldiers in black uniforms, repeating their commanders’ orders, climbed the steps protruding from the sides of the cockpits and entered the cargo compartments.

WHOOOO! TWEET!

With a loud whistle, the tractors, now loaded with soldiers, began to move. Watching the signals from soldiers waving large flags, the tractors moved in formation. The place they were headed for was the open ground located at intervals between the trench lines.

“I was wondering why they didn’t dig trenches there…”

“So it was the advance route for those tractors?”

Watching the tractors, now encased in steel plates and carrying soldiers, and the passages created by breaking up the trench line, the Florentine and Swiss soldiers finally understood everything.

• —They’re going to break through the trench line by loading soldiers onto tractors surrounded by iron plates!

“Are they knights, reborn to match a new era?”

As the observation balloons rose into the sky, the gazes of the French generals and soldiers were all focused on them. Just then, a loud whistle blew from the direction of the Imperial trenches, and the gazes of the generals and soldiers shifted from the sky back to the ground. Watching the pillars of smoke from the tractors moving here and there, the soldiers and generals felt a sense of foreboding.

“I have no idea what they’re up to. And that makes me nervous.”

“I agree.”

“How about we start the bombardment first?”

“But we made a promise on a knight’s honor…”

“Promises are made to be bro…”

BOOOOM~.

As the French generals were discussing a preemptive strike, a cannon roared from the rear of the allied Imperial army in the distance.

“A single shot? From that far away…”

KRA-BOOM!

The French generals, who had already learned the meaning of that first shot from the previous artillery duel, shrieked in terror. But before they could even finish their words, a massive pillar of earth erupted from their trench line.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM~.

As about three more shells landed, the junior officers in the French trenches shouted to their men.

“The downpour is about to begin! Everyone, stay sharp!”

Not long after the officers’ words, the Imperial artillery’s ‘sincere bombardment’ began.

BOOM! KRA-KOOM! BOOM! KRA-KOOM!

The bombardment waged with the full sincerity of the Imperial artillery was not something that the poetically-minded French could describe as a mere ‘downpour.’ It was a torrential downpour, no, a murderous deluge that came with a typhoon. The battle-hardened Imperial artillery, seasoned through numerous wars and battles, once again displayed their skills without reserve.

Confirming the observation results sent from the balloons, the Imperial artillery methodically began to demolish the walls to the left and right of the Pavia fortress gate and the trench lines protecting the front of the gate.

“Why are you leaving the gate alone?” an inquisitive Florentine officer who was watching the bombardment asked.

An Imperial commander replied nonchalantly, “Because it’s easier to open a gate and go in than to climb over a collapsed wall.”

“But won’t the enemy be waiting in droves right behind the gate?”

“Those madmen in the Assault Troops will like that even better. Saves them a long walk. Damn bastards, what is it, ‘three steps or more, all aboard[1]’? Do they think they’re the navy?”

“Huh?”

As the Florentine officer expressed his confusion at the incomprehensible words, a subordinate officer reported, “Message from the balloons! The sailors have departed!”

“Is that so? Then from now on, just pound the walls!”

“Yes, sir!”

While the commander’s subordinate officers and artillerymen were busy adjusting the bearing of their cannons, the Florentine officer was still tormented by his unresolved question.

“‘All aboard’? ‘Navy’? ‘Sailors’? As far as I can see, the Imperial Navy is not here.”

Seeing the Florentine officer struggling with his question, an interpreter stepped forward and gave him the answer. “They say that because the structures attached to the front and back to get through the trenches make it look like a boat. And also, you’re guaranteed to get motion sickness if you ride in it.”

“Motion sickness?”

“Urp! Blegh!”

“That bastard, he’s been assigned to the Assault Troops for ages and he’s still getting motion sickness?” other soldiers grumbled as a few of their comrades, sitting on the simple chairs attached to the passenger compartment, got sick.

“Ughh~ It-it’s my constitution… Bleegh! What can I do if my constitution… Uuurp! can’t handle it?”

The soldiers suffering from motion sickness had their own excuses. The assault vehicles they were riding in were built without the slightest consideration for ride comfort. Hyang was well aware of this problem and had utilized coil springs and leaf springs as much as possible. But doing so created the problem of excessive maintenance requirements.

There’s a limit to the technology for now, so it can’t be helped.

In the end, Hyang had to swallow his disappointment and reduce the number and use of springs, and the result was the worst possible ride comfort for the soldiers.

“Will there even be any soldiers who volunteer for this? Will we have to assign them by force…?” the army commanders had worried after test-riding the prototype, but surprisingly, there was no shortage of volunteers.

“It’s better than running through a hail of bullets with your bare body, isn’t it?”

“And you don’t have to run!”

Even in such a situation, there were soldiers who found the positive side.

***

“Ughhh…”

“Aaaargh!”

“Help me! Someone!”

The French trenches and walls, which had been properly hit by the ‘sincere and wholehearted’ Imperial bombardment, became a scene of pandemonium. Everywhere, soldiers were groaning or screaming from wounds caused by shrapnel and collapsing trenches. A short while later, as the Imperial bombardment began to let up, the officers and veteran soldiers who had come to their senses raised their voices and began to organize the situation.

“Stretchers! Bring the stretchers!”

“Move the wounded!”

“Dig out that guy who’s buried over there!”

“There’s no time!”

The officers and veterans desperately cleared away the dead and wounded as quickly as possible while preparing for what was next.

“Check the status of the hwachas and cannons!”

“There’s only one reason the bombardment has let up! They’re coming!”

The soldiers, shaken back to their senses by the shouts of the officers and veterans, quickly checked the status of their hwachas and cannons.

“We’re short-handed on the hwachas!”

“You! You! And you! Go and help!”

“The cannon positions are also short-handed!”

“Report to the rear!”

The French officers defending the trench line continued to make choices to achieve the best possible outcome. While regular soldiers could assist with the hwachas, they could not with the cannons.

“In close combat, hwachas are better than cannons anyway! Secure as many hwachas as possible!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Monsters! It’s monsters! The monsters are coming!”

The French officers, who had been agonizing over how to maintain the best possible defense for their trenches, raised their heads at the scream-like shouts erupting around them.

“What? Hiiik!”

“Hah!”

The French officers looking to the front were horrified.

Monsters were charging toward them, spewing pillars of black smoke. No, their reason insisted they were not monsters. But on the large iron plates covering their fronts were painted images of hideous monsters baring their teeth.