Holy Roman Empire

Having just emerged from the desert, the Rebel Army’s Eighth Division, which was approaching Ugsur City, hadn’t yet launched an attack when they were met by the surging waters of the Nile River.

Fortunately, they were far from the Aswan Dam, where the floodwater had already dispersed, raising downstream water levels but not to the extent of flooding the city.

Gazing at the ceaseless flow of the Nile River, Colonel Hutile sighed, "Command the troops to encamp here, let’s rest for a day, and send out scouts to quickly figure out what happened upstream."

Despite not knowing the specifics, Hutile knew it certainly had something to do with General Jeret.

Fa Jinhan said, "From the water level, it’s evident that the Rebel Army destroyed the Aswan Dam, but it’s unclear what the battle outcome was.

If we manage to severely damage the French Army, then our secret infiltration here wouldn’t just be about staging a feint at Ugsur."

All those present were elites from the Austrian Army, and they weren’t easily fooled by changes on the battlefield.

The original order from Rebel Headquarters to the Eighth Division was to infiltrate secretly, stage a feint at Ugsur to draw the main French forces back, and buy time for the Rebel Army.

Speaking of infiltration, in reality, an army of nearly ten thousand could hardly erase all traces of their passage.

Initially, Hutile and his comrades had prepared for an ambush by the French, proceeding with extreme caution and even detouring through the desert for a while.

However, it turned out they were overly cautious; the French didn’t take them seriously at all.

Thinking about it, that made sense as Egypt still housed numerous tribes, and though clashes involving thousands were rare, they weren’t unheard of.

The Eighth Division itself was quite disorganized, marching in disarray and lacking uniform military attire; they looked more like civilians than soldiers.

Consequently, the French in Ugsur City were completely unresponsive. Had they not been so wearied by the march, Hutile might have taken the opportunity to attack the city.

Of course, that was merely wishful thinking. The Eighth Division was hardly a fighting force; if they were ordered to attack at this point, no one could guarantee what this mob might do.

Schtausenburg grimly noted, "From the current situation, perhaps we have all underestimated Jeret; he isn’t as foolish as he appears.

Strategically located in the middle of the Nile River, Ugsur is key for the French Army’s logistics. Should we launch an attack, the French would definitely come to their aid.

If the situation in the Aswan region is unfavorable, we would be just a decoy, drawing the French fire while buying time for the Rebel Army’s main forces to maneuver.

If the flood played its part and the Rebel Army was victorious, we would be ideally positioned to block the French Army’s retreat.

We certainly could not stop the French Army at its peak, but a defeated one is another story.

We might not annihilate them, but picking off stragglers is feasible. By holding them here, we might manage to trap most of the French forces."

Forewarned yet underestimated by what they scorned as "trash," this was a harsh lesson for these young officers whose pride was deeply wounded.

The atmosphere inside the tent instantly turned tense, Hutile being the first to recover, "Alright, no more wild guesses.

We are here to learn, things you can’t study in school. Without firsthand experience, no one takes them seriously.

Whatever Jeret’s plan may be, ultimately the choice is ours. Whether we follow the plan depends on whether it aligns with our mission."

Comfort? Nonexistent. Soldiers are not so fragile. If they can’t handle this slight setback, then they might as well go home early. Those who aren’t mentally tough don’t belong in the army. Continue your journey on empire

Regaining their composure, Major Botiolayek laughed, "The Colonel is right, we are here to learn.

If a British General could be easily figured out by us, then the world would be far too simple."

Right, did you notice something odd about Ugsur?

It’s said there are two defense battalions in the city, one of which is entirely composed of French. Surprisingly, they didn’t take advantage of our unstable footing to attack us."

Not something you think about, but when Major Botiolayek mentioned it, everyone realized,

With over four thousand men, half of them French, facing a native Rebel army twice their number, the French wouldn’t just hold back from an attack; they wouldn’t shy away from a direct battle either.

Yet, the city’s garrison just holed up inside, doing nothing. It’s not like they are peace lovers, unwilling to kill.

If they’re passing up easy military honors, either the city’s garrisoned officers have water in their brains, or the defense force in the city is too depleted to dare leaving for battle."

Fa Jinhan speculated, "It’s very likely that when Governor Adolf passed through, he took the city’s garrison with him; now Ugsur is practically a ghost town.

Tomorrow we can probe; if it’s indeed a ghost town, then we can seize the city and cut off the French Army’s logistics."

Don’t ask why tomorrow and not today. Ask, and it’s because today everyone is in a bad mood and not up for taking a city—hardly."

There was no other way; the Eighth Division was just a group of old soldiers. It had not been easy for Hutile and others, who had taken over command only a short while ago, to barely maintain discipline.

It was impossible to expect everyone to fight while exhausted. This had already been proven during the march: whenever the pace was increased, deserters would appear.

The combat effectiveness was already lacking, supported solely by a facade brought about by numerical superiority. If they lost even that advantage, how could they possibly frighten anyone?

It was known that their goal was to cause destruction. With just a few people, it was impossible to sweep through Egypt.

Thus, they needed to expand the "Rebel Army". Drawing from historical Eastern examples of rebellion studied, everyone concluded that the most effective method was to become bandits.

Dragging along hundreds of thousands of people and plundering along the way would cause immense destruction, far greater than direct looting and pillaging.

More people meant greater strength. With so many covering for them, it was easy to abandon the main force and run away if the situation turned dire.

The soldiers of the Eighth Division might have been worthless, but they were seeds for banditry, each one a potential future leader. They could not be easily abandoned.

…

At this moment, Mayor Gus Ollie of Ugsur City was cursing Governor Adolf’s entire family, completely forgetting who had initially insisted on sending the garrison there to share in the merits.

With the enemy at the gates and the garrison out of the city, the elite of Ugsur City were panicking.

The rebel’s blade did not discriminate; once Ugsur City fell, all the notables would suffer greatly.

The wealthy whose roots were not in this area had already fled the city. As long as they had a horse, they were likely to outrun the foot soldiers of the rebel army outside the city.

Without the army, the police officers took on the role of armed forces. Police Chief Anthony said, "Mr. Mayor, we have already issued a notice to recruit young men to defend the city.

However, this is far from enough. With a division of rebels outside the city, our strength will not hold for long."

Although Ugsur was a colony, it was also a key inland city that had been under French control for over a decade or two, leading to peace throughout the region.

As a result, the military capacity within the city had declined significantly. The once fierce colonial teams had now turned into regular businesses.

At most, they maintained a few dozen subordinates to oversee their venues. The days of armed groups numbering in the hundreds or thousands were long gone.

In Egyptian territory, foreigners remained outnumbered, with true Frenchmen totaling only around eight hundred or so.

In normal times, Ugsur’s garrison consisted of just one battalion. Those two regiments were cobbled together out of necessity when the rebels rampaged through. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Gathering forces was one thing, but Ugsur could not withstand another such event. Now, calling up young people to defend the city was, in reality, mostly Egyptians, with a very limited number of French descendants.

As colonists, they not only had to defend the city but also guard against cooperation between the Egyptian populace within and the rebels without.

Mayor Gus Ollie rubbed his forehead and said, "I’ve sent out a distress telegram. There might be some unforeseen changes at the front line, as Governor Adolf hasn’t responded immediately.

But rest assured, I also sent distress telegrams to the cities of Kina, Gilja, Ahemim, and others. Reinforcements should arrive within a week at most."

A week was the most optimistic estimate. With the governor unreachable at the front, and without anyone to coordinate between the cities, it was uncertain whether the cities would even send troops.

While mutual aid was expected, everyone was inherently selfish, especially the bureaucrats. Before helping Ugsur, they would first consider their own safety.

Especially the nearby Kina region, less than a hundred kilometers away, was also likely to be threatened by the rebels.

The earliest reinforcements, which could have arrived the fastest, were estimated to wait until the following forces confirmed their own safety before truly committing their troops.

While everyone was making military preparations, a telegraph operator suddenly burst in: "Mr. Mayor, an urgent telegram from Isna has arrived."

Mayor Gus Ollie frowned, suppressing his displeasure as he took the telegram. Upon reading it, his face turned pale and he lost all his energy.

Anthony, quick to react, helped the drained Mayor Gus Ollie to sit down and instructed a servant, "Quickly, call a doctor."

After catching his breath, the elderly Mayor Gus Ollie waved a hand to stop them: "No need, I’m fine.

It was just the bad news from the front that shocked me. I’ll be fine after a bit."

Hearing this response, everyone’s expression grew tense. The rebels were at the gates, yet Mayor Gus Ollie had merely frowned, showing no sign of panic.

A single piece of news had frightened the experienced mayor so severely; it must have been particularly bad news.

Police Chief Anthony hurriedly asked, "Mr. Mayor, what has happened?"