Chapter 57: The Yamato Logic of Victory

A skilled angler will never yank the fishing line back all at once the moment a fish takes the hook. When a truly large fish struggles desperately, there is a significant chance it will break free, snapping either the line or the rod.

An experienced angler will wear down the creature's stamina before slowly reeling it in and securing it with a landing net.

Zhang Shan was that angler.

Simply engaging in a brutal meat grinder in Red Pagoda City would certainly achieve the goal of wearing down the elite forces of the Guanbei Army's 1st-class divisions.

Yet, excessive attrition might end up startling the enemy into retreat.

For now, only the 2nd, 4th, and 9th 1st-class divisions were rotating into combat.

The 4th Division, nicknamed the "Boundary," was an absolute master of loafing. Especially after Lieutenant Colonel Sakamoto established contact, the soldiers of the 4th Division would now tacitly raise the "Boundary" banner high and let out a few rounds of triumphant cheers before every charge.

Only when the opposing Rossians fired three consecutive shots would they know the enemy was ready.

"Tenno heika banzai!"

Following a passionate rallying cry, the first to rush out of the trenches were dozens of newly recruited cannon fodder who had no idea what was going on.

One could tell at a glance that these fellows had failed to figure out the ropes and had not integrated into the veterans' ranks.

Once these men were completely wiped out, the true veteran slackers of the Boundary Division would not even run ten meters out of the trenches before leading a feigned retreat.

Faced with these eccentric troops, the frontline units—having received secret orders from Zhang Shan—responded in kind: as long as the 4th Division's men did not cross the demarcation line, they fired blank rounds into the empty air.

To Zhang Shan, the crux of the matter was that three more 1st-class divisions had yet to set foot onto the steppe. For one, the logistical supply lines could not support it; for another, General Honda had not yet steeled his resolve.

Interestingly, both sides were waiting for the completion of the steppe railway.

Prince Andrei on the opposing side put on the desperate act of a spent force reluctantly throwing in his personal guards, which drove General Honda to the brink of raving madness.

The dear General's official dispatches back to the homeland even degenerated into: "Our forces have captured the enemy's vital throat fortress of Red Pagoda City, and the enemy is launching frantic counterattacks in a desperate bid to reopen the Trans-Beria Railway."

Well, that provided a perfectly reasonable explanation for why fierce battles were still raging in Red Pagoda City.

One had to admit, the Yamato people certainly knew how to draft official reports.

It was a masterclass in the philosophy of absolute victory!

The bizarre part was that Zhang Shan's side actually played along with Honda's philosophy of victory.

Domestically, the propaganda boasted about how many devils were slain today, accompanied by a multitude of photographic proofs in the newspapers. Those severed heads adorned with demonic horns varied day by day—that part was entirely truthful.

Externally, the announcements declared: "Following a fierce battle today, having slain thousands of devils, our forces have successfully improved our tactical positioning."

Just listen to that—what did "improved our tactical positioning" even mean?

Such delicate phrasing and masterful understatement were beyond the grasp of ordinary people.

Did this not perfectly validate that classic adage: "War reports can deceive, but the frontlines never lie"?

The Yamato Imperial General Headquarters was utterly hoodwinked by the harmonious duet playing out between General Honda and Prince Andrei from afar.

Only these two men truly understood the disastrous state of the Guanbei Army's expeditionary force—the 2nd and 9th Divisions had suffered casualties exceeding fifty percent. All four infantry regiments in each division had been battered to a pulp. The 9th Division had it even worse, having lost its entire artillery regiment as well. The 4th Division had lost roughly one regiment.

In addition, six Yamato 2nd-class divisions had been shattered.

Total personnel losses stood at fifty thousand, with over a hundred thousand wounded.

While troop numbers were relatively easy to replenish, the decline in overall quality was glaringly obvious.

Previously on the parade grounds, General Honda saw nothing but strapping young lads standing around 165 centimeters tall. Now, the average height of new recruits in the 1st-class divisions was under 160 centimeters, while the 2nd-class divisions averaged less than 150 centimeters.

Visually, it was a sea of short-stature stump-dwellers!

It was an absolute eyesore to General Honda.

"The railway has already been laid for eighty kilometers... Those damned Rossians! Once the railway is finished, the Mongorians like to slaughter all males taller than a wagon wheel, don't they? I'll be thorough—I'll slaughter every last man among you! Otherwise, may I never return to Kudanzaka!" General Honda swore a vicious oath.

Time rolled on to late July.

Meanwhile, as Zhang Shan outwardly projected submission while putting on a show of dispatching his personal guards—suggesting Red Pagoda City was on the verge of falling—the Britannians and Asgardians grew somewhat anxious. The Gauls were quite curious as well.

They issued diplomatic notes bearing a singular underlying message: *My friend, can you actually hold out?*

They were terrified this would turn out to be another replica of Serica, where they had poured in massive resources only to nurture a spineless, puppet-like coward.

To their astonishment, Zhang Shan took the initiative to propose allowing them to dispatch military observers to the Red Pagoda City frontline to observe and take photographs.

Without a moment's hesitation, the three nations immediately dispatched personnel to board aircraft, followed by a train transfer, arriving in Red Pagoda City in a mere two days.

"Choo-choo-choo!"

An armored train steamed into Red Pagoda North Station.

Lieutenant Colonel Nigel Lierkenp arrived representing Asgard. In truth, even before entering the city, the moment he laid eyes on that railway Titan-class engine, he knew Prince Andrei of the Principality of Beria had not spoken falsely.

At the very least, the Rossians still controlled a portion of Red Pagoda City, did they not?

Stepping off the train shortly after, he was greeted by the Rossian welcoming party waiting on the platform.

"Greetings, Lieutenant Colonel Lierkenp. I am Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Panfilov, commander of the 3rd Brigade, 9th Division of the Principality of Beria!" Alexander delivered a crisp military salute. He spoke quite slowly, as even he had not yet grown accustomed to such a rocket-like promotion trajectory.

In a mere half-month, he had been transferred across three divisions, rocketing straight from a battalion commander to a brigade commander in a triple leap.

At this moment, he was still adjusting to his newfound identity.

The translator nearby rendered his words into Asgardian for Nigel, whose handsome face broke into a gentle smile: "Greetings, Lieutenant Colonel Panfilov. I have been commanded by His Imperial Majesty to observe your frontline operations. If possible, please allow me to observe as close to the engagement lines as permitted. It would be even better if I could witness our weaponry in actual combat."

"No problem." Having received prior instructions from Zhang Shan, Panfilov readily led Nigel and his entourage across a large portion of the city, conducting inspections point by point at commanding heights two or three blocks away from the active combat zone, even permitting them to take photographs.

The Asgardians were astonished by the sheer candor of the Rossians.

That very evening, Lieutenant Colonel Lierkenp penned an urgent dispatch to his emperor, describing the situation thus:

[Your Majesty, I am profoundly surprised. The Rossians of the Grand Principality of Beria have indeed faithfully described their actual circumstances in their public broadcasts.]

[Without a doubt, up to the very moment I pen this letter, the Rossians firmly retain control over the majority of the city. They have excavated deep trenches along nearly all major thoroughfares. I witnessed with my own eyes diminutive Yamato devil soldiers—short as Asgardian children—leaping into the Rossian trenches, only to find themselves unable to climb back out, subsequently slain by the Rossians using all manner of antiquated firearms. I actually laid eyes on a Lebel M1886 rifle; that contraption is old enough to be my grandfather.]

[I find it difficult to adequately describe this farcical spectacle.]

[Furthermore, the Rossians' description of 'improving tactical positioning' has valid grounds. In the southwestern residential district of Red Pagoda City, due to its proximity to marshlands, the soil is relatively soft and dotted with numerous low-slung buildings of one or two stories. Although the Rossians project an aura of yielding not an inch of ground, these timber-and-brick structures struggle immensely to withstand the onslaught of Yamato mortars, let alone explosive satchel charges.]

[Amidst these subpar fortifications, the combat performance of the Rossians against the Yamatos is far from dominant. They deliberately choose to execute phased retreats in accordance with tactical necessities.]

[Finally, the Rossians are utter barbarians. These creatures, who transform into beasts, derive the utmost delight from severing the heads of their enemies. Even during retreats, they make a point of hanging enemy heads from various conspicuous locations. Without a doubt, these barbarous beasts are unworthy of possessing a land so rich in mineral wealth.]

In conclusion, Lierkenp attached a large volume of photographic film captured that very day, instructing diplomatic personnel to dispatch it back to the homeland with all possible haste.