xymnovel Chapter 48 The duel between the falcon and the raven!
Chapter 48 The duel between the falcon and the raven!
Metaxas's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a sharp dagger, instantly piercing through the hypocritical yet enthusiastic atmosphere in the banquet hall.
"I accept your challenge."
These six words were clear, firm, and without the slightest tremor.
General Papagiorou's drunken and smug expression froze instantly. He seemed to have never expected that this little chick, which he thought could be crushed with a pinch, would actually dare to stick out its neck.
Then he burst into an even louder laugh, a laugh filled with disdain and cruelty.
"Good! You've got guts!"
Constantine gave no one another chance to speak.
He gave a concise order to his chief valet, Alexandros.
"Clear the area and move to the operations room."
Upon receiving the order, the palace guards sprang into action. They pushed through the crowd, clearing a path leading to the flank operations room.
The grand banquet came to an abrupt end.
The musicians stopped playing, and the waiters put away the wine glasses.
The guests' expressions were a fascinating mix of excitement, curiosity, and schadenfreude. What seemed like an ordinary royal dinner had turned into a life-or-death struggle concerning factional honor and the clash between old and new powers.
Everyone followed Constantine through the long corridor, rushing toward the normally closed doors to the operations room.
The lights in the operations room were brighter than those in the banquet hall, almost blindingly white.
In the center of the room, there was nothing but the cold marble floor.
At Alexandros's command, four strong guards carried in a huge object covered with a heavy velvet cloth.
"Bang."
The heavy base landed on the floor with a dull thud.
Alexandros stepped forward, grabbed a corner of the velvet cloth with both hands, and suddenly yanked it back!
"Whoosh—"
A huge sand table was displayed in front of everyone.
On the sand table, undulating mountains, meandering rivers, towns, roads, and forests are depicted in meticulous detail. It shows the terrain of the Thessaly Plain, the most important strategic buffer zone between Greece and the Ottoman Empire.
All the officers present held their breath.
This is more than just a map; it is the battlefield where they are most likely to shed blood with their arch-enemy, the Ottomans.
A neutral referee sent by the military stepped forward, opened a wooden box, inside which were neatly arranged flags of two colors and wooden blocks representing different branches of the armed forces.
Blue represents General Papagiorou.
Red represents Metaxa.
"General, please select your troops first," the judge said, bowing.
Papagiorou showed no restraint, his large fingers casually fiddling with the wooden box as if picking out plump, fresh meat at a market.
He grabbed the flag representing the elite heavy cavalry and planted it heavily on the starting line representing his own side, making a crisp sound.
"I need two regiments of cavalry!"
He then grabbed a handful of blue flags representing the infantry.
"Four regiments of elite infantry, at full strength!"
Finally, he picked up the wooden blocks representing the artillery, but only took a few symbolically and casually tossed them behind the lines.
"Let's add another artillery battalion to liven things up."
His choice, arrogant and confident, was typical of French tactical thinking: a powerful central infantry group to exert frontal pressure, followed by a decisive flanking maneuver and tearing apart the enemy with fierce heavy cavalry! This was Napoleon's tactic for sweeping across Europe, and also the tactic he was most proud of!
He's going to use the most classic and brilliant central breakthrough to crush that bookworm on the other side into dust!
The generals erupted in low cheers.
"General, you are mighty! With this hammer blow, not even a speck of dust will remain!"
Papagiorou glanced smugly at Constantine, then gave a disdainful look to Metaxas, whose face had turned pale.
Your turn, kid.
It's Metaxa's turn.
He walked up to the sand table, and everyone's eyes were focused on his hands.
His hands were steady, without the slightest tremor.
He did not look at the elite cavalry and infantry.
He reached out and picked up almost all of the red artillery blocks.
One.
two.
Three...
Four whole battalions of artillery!
The entire room fell into a deathly silence, which was then broken by suppressed gasps and snickers.
"He's insane! This guy is absolutely insane! He's betting everything on the artillery?"
"Does he even know what inter-service coordination is? Artillery without infantry protection is just a bunch of sitting ducks!"
After taking the artillery, Metaxas picked up the red flag representing the infantry.
He only won two teams.
Moreover, he only sparsely planted the flags of one regiment on the front line of defense. That line of defense was as thin as a sheet of paper.
He placed the other infantry regiment and all the artillery in a reserve area far from the main battlefield.
"Is there even a need to fight? Papagiorou's cavalry could tear apart the Red Army's shattered defenses with a single charge," a foreign military attaché whispered to his companion, shaking his head.
"Has that Metaxus gone mad? He's actually put half of his forces into reserves, leaving his frontline forces as thin as paper. What's he trying to do? Lure the enemy deep into his territory? In the face of absolute power, any schemes and tricks are a joke!" Army Minister Zorbas sneered.
Sir Sir Harding, the British ambassador, stroked his beard and looked at the sand table with great interest: "Oh? Interesting deployment. Look, he's scattered his artillery on both sides of the mountain. What kind of ingenious tactic is that? Is he just waiting to be picked off one by one by Papagiorou's cavalry?"
"His Highness the Crown Prince has misjudged the situation this time; he will suffer a crushing defeat." A member of parliament closely associated with Papagiorou had practically predicted the outcome.
"No, no," one of Papagioru's trusted advisors laughed heartily. "This isn't a simulation; it's a lesson. Our battle-hardened general will personally teach that young man a lesson in the cruelty of war!"
Laughter and whispers crashed against Metaxa like a tidal wave.
He turned a deaf ear.
He calmly planted the last small red flag, representing the command post, on a high ground behind the defensive line.
Deployment complete.
The referee glanced at both sides, then at Constantine.
Constantine nodded slightly.
"Deduction... Begin!"
The referee's voice faded.
Without even the slightest probing, Papagiorou waved his hand and let out a beast-like roar!
"All-out offensive!"
Upon receiving the order, his adjutant immediately pushed forward the blue flags representing the two cavalry regiments and four infantry regiments without hesitation!
On the sand table, the blue flags, like an unstoppable wave, surged toward Metaxa's pitifully thin red defensive line.
The cavalry spread out from both flanks, while the infantry formed a thick square formation in the center.
The offensive is overwhelming!
Everyone held their breath, as if they could see the Red Army's defenses crumble and its flags trampled into pieces in the next second.
However, to everyone's surprise,
Metaxa did not choose to fight back.
He gently waved his baton.
"The first line of defense will retreat and take turns providing cover with the second line of defense to delay the enemy."
On the sand table, the thin red defensive line began to slowly and methodically recede. They fired a few shots and ran, never lingering in battle, like a pack of cunning foxes, constantly harassing the blue giant bear's advance.
Seeing this, Papagiorou burst into laughter: "Run? Where can you run to? Chase them! Crush them!"
The blue waves surged even faster.
They pursued the retreating Red Army westward.
The red flags being repeatedly pulled up signify the abandonment of positions and defeat.
But Metaxas remained expressionless.
He watched as the main force of the Blue Army, little by little, step by step, was led by the nose away from the open Thessalian plain and into a narrow strip of land with towering mountains on both sides.
The terrain there is like a tightened pocket.
One... he personally chose, Death Valley.
His control stick was steadily positioned at the entrance to the canyon.
The prey is already in the cage.