1424, early February.
Winter was nearly over. At dawn, the sky was still pitch-black, and all the frontline soldiers of the Imperial Army were ready to move.
Officers at company level and above, along with the political commissars, all watched the pocket watches in their hands. When the hands reached six o'clock, half an hour before the sky began to lighten, the attack would begin.
In this war, Lynn was still focused on the frontal battlefield. He wasn't worried about the flanks. The Holy Sword Mountain had been infiltrated until it was riddled with holes; guerrillas, militia divisions, and civil guard units were everywhere.
There were also elite forces storming up the mountain to launch a major assault on the city.
On the frontal battlefield, Xisitehao City was the focal point of the effort to pin down the enemy.
This time, Lynn no longer worried about casualties. The enemy's tactics had leveled up; they had evolved. And with the Reserve System and the militia, Lynn had seen just how much manpower he had.
He had also seen his enemies' determination and drive to develop.
Compared with those useless regimes, Lynn's enemies were hardly incompetent.
Whether it was Louis, the Demon Race, or Lothair, whom he would face in the future, Lynn's enemies all had talented people.
The Demon Race's production was especially explosive. In five months, they had sent over a hundred thousand firearms of various types, including breech-loading artillery. According to intelligence from a merchant overseas who was one of his old man's contacts in the Northern Territory Merchant Association, they had even managed to get their hands on picric acid.
This substance really did fit history: it had been used as a dye for centuries.
When mixed with rust, it became yellow explosive.
According to unreliable intelligence, the