The Sniper's Manual

On the battlefield, the Poles were pinned down by the lever-action rifles' high rate of fire and accuracy. They truly couldn't raise their heads—not in the physical sense.

With a capacity of eight rounds, the rifle was a one-of-a-kind design for its time, allowing it to maintain continuous suppressive fire.

Still, lying prone was no problem for the shooters behind the parapets. They treated it like a hunt. At a distance of over a hundred meters, with the parapets for protection, old smoothbore muskets could hardly scratch them.

"Damn it! What a pointless battle. Why don't they surrender?"

Colonel Monta was growing frustrated. He couldn't understand what the enemy hoped to accomplish. Attacking the fort he was defending with so few men was sheer fantasy.

Just then, Colonel Monta looked at the Jasiński Family's private soldiers, who were trembling with fear. They immediately jumped in fright, and he could only sigh helplessly. He wished the enemy would muster some courage—at the very least, to give this battle a shred of suspense.

Though eager to distinguish himself, Colonel Monta had no desire to take the initiative and attack or drive these men into rebellion. His subordinates' lives mattered more.

Most importantly, Archduke Franz had no such intention. His orders were that once casualties exceeded 10 percent, they could request reinforcements.

But that was clearly an unnecessary concern. The enemy was even more pathetic than he'd expected.

Although the battle was overwhelmingly one-sided, no one cared about the colonel's mood. Or rather, unlike the colonel, they didn't care how many enemies there were—only how many they could kill.

At that moment, a Polish cavalryman braved the storm of bullets and reached the front line. His courage made the men lower their muzzles a little.

Still, not everyone chose to express their respect