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I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom-Chapter 106: The Battle Against the Natives
The command to fire was met with an earth-shaking roar as the Elysean artillery unleashed its first volley. Cannonballs tore through the advancing Akunza warriors, sending bodies flying and shattering shields like dry twigs. The impact sent plumes of dirt and smoke into the air, momentarily obscuring the battlefield.
Then came the musket fire.
A thunderous crack rolled across the riverbank as disciplined volleys of lead ripped into the enemy ranks. Warriors collapsed mid-charge, some screaming in pain while others fell lifeless without a sound. The Akunza formation faltered but did not break. Their war cries did not cease; if anything, they grew louder.
Roux watched the chaos unfold from his vantage point atop the ridge. He had seen this before—outnumbered enemies charging headlong into musket fire, relying on numbers and sheer will to close the distance. He knew that if they reached the Elysean lines, the fight would become brutal, close-quarters combat.
"Steady!" Roux called out. "Keep firing!"
The Elysean soldiers obeyed. Their training kept them disciplined, reloading with precision as another volley was unleashed into the enemy ranks. More warriors fell, but the rest pressed on.
Giraud, leading the cavalry positioned on the right flank, gritted his teeth. "They’re still coming, Marshal."
Roux gave a single nod. "Let them."
The Akunza warriors finally reached the outer trenches, vaulting over the dirt barriers with astonishing speed. Some carried crude muskets acquired through trade or raids, firing wildly at the Elysean soldiers. Others brandished spears, axes, and clubs, aiming to close the distance.
"Bayonets!" Roux barked.
With a practiced motion, the front-line soldiers fixed their bayonets onto their muskets just as the enemy crashed into them. The air filled with the sounds of metal clashing against wood and flesh.
The disciplined Elysean formations held firm. Warriors lunged at them, but were met with bayonet thrusts to the gut or rifle stocks smashing into their skulls. Some managed to strike down an Elysean soldier, but for every man they killed, five of their own fell. Your next journey awaits at novelbuddy
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Giraud saw his moment. "Cavalry! Charge!"
The right flank erupted as fifty horsemen galloped forward, sabers flashing. They slammed into the enemy’s exposed side, cutting through warriors with ruthless efficiency. Horses trampled over fallen bodies as Giraud’s men hacked down stragglers.
Roux shifted his gaze to the enemy rear. The Akunza warriors were fully committed, all of their forces now engaged in the fight. Their main weakness was clear—there was no reserve, no fallback plan.
"Signal the left flank," Roux ordered. "Send in the second line."
A rider waved a red flag, signaling the hidden detachment positioned further along the riverbank. More Elysean troops emerged from the tree line, muskets at the ready.
Caught between disciplined musket fire, relentless cavalry, and a fresh wave of reinforcements, the Akunza warriors began to waver. Their fierce war cries turned into desperate shouts. Some tried to flee, but they were already surrounded.
Roux did not hesitate.
"Advance!" he commanded.
The Elysean line surged forward, bayonets driving deep into the enemy ranks. The Akunza warriors fought desperately, but without formation or coordination, they were overwhelmed. The battlefield turned into a slaughter.
The sun was high in the sky when the last warrior fell. Blood soaked the grass, mingling with the bodies of the fallen. The Elysean soldiers stood victorious, their uniforms stained with dirt and blood.
Giraud wiped his saber on a dead warrior’s tunic before turning to Roux. "It’s over."
Roux surveyed the battlefield, his expression unreadable. "Not yet."
Survivors, those who had surrendered or were too wounded to fight, were rounded up. Many were defiant, even in defeat, but their fate had already been sealed.
"What do we do with them?" one of the officers asked.
Roux’s answer was immediate. "Execute them."
There was no need for prisoners. This was not a war of diplomacy. It was conquest.
Gunshots echoed through the clearing as the captured warriors were systematically put to death.
The Akunza Confederation had been broken.
By nightfall, the Elysean army set up camp near the battlefield. Fires burned low as soldiers ate rations and tended to their wounded. Victory was theirs, but this was just the beginning.
Inside a makeshift war tent, Roux met with his officers. A large map of the region was spread across a wooden table, marked with crude drawings of settlements and rivers.
"We’ve crushed their warriors," Roux said, his voice steady. "Now, we take their land."
The officers nodded.
Giraud traced his finger along the river. "With the Akunza Confederation gone, we have an open path deeper into Pan-America. Their villages will either submit or be wiped out."
Vasseur, the commander of Fort Saint-Louis, had accompanied them to the battle. He looked hesitant. "Marshal, if I may—some of these villages could be useful if they choose to cooperate."
Roux glanced at him. "You believe they will surrender?"
"Some might," Vasseur admitted. "If they see the power of Elysea, if they know resistance means death, they may accept our rule."
Roux considered it. He was not opposed to using local populations for labor, scouting, and supply chains, but he would not waste time on negotiations.
"Fine," he said. "Send riders to the nearest villages. Offer them a simple choice—submit to Elysea and be allowed to live under our rule. Resist, and they will share the fate of the Akunza Confederation."
Giraud smirked. "That should make things clear enough."
Roux stood, his gaze firm. "We move at dawn. This region belongs to Elysea now."
The following days were spent securing the surrounding territory. The villages that had once been under the Akunza Confederation’s protection were defenseless.
Some resisted. They were burned to the ground.
Others surrendered. Their chiefs bent the knee, their people allowed to live under Elysean rule—so long as they followed orders.
Fort Saint-Louis, once a neglected outpost, had now become the center of a growing colonial empire. Reinforcements arrived from the main fleet, bringing more soldiers, supplies, and even settlers eager to carve a new life in Pan-America.
As Roux stood atop the walls of the fort, looking out over the land that had once been wild and untamed, he knew one thing:
This was only the beginning.
Elysea had arrived.
And there was no one left to stop them.