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Chapter 1252: The True Decisive Battle

The battle was completely one-sided.

The Austrian rear guard had scattered the center, and their flanks were heavily struck. Soldiers ran in disarray from start to finish, then simply knelt and surrendered.

The gunfire gradually ceased less than three hours later.

Moreau rode past the smoke-filled, blood-scented thickets, watching as soldiers escorted column after column of prisoners to an open space on the west side.

He frowned and asked his aide-de-camp, "How many enemies did we capture?"

The aide-de-camp quickly opened his documents and began calculating.

Moreau sighed helplessly, "A rough estimate will do."

"Uh, it should be close to ten thousand," the aide-de-camp replied. "Only one Hussar regiment managed to escape. The Voltigeurs' prisoners haven't been brought over yet."

Moreau nodded. "Only take the officers. Disarm the common soldiers and release them on the spot."

He knew well that the main Coalition Forces could arrive at any moment. His soldiers, after a long march, were nearing their physical limits. If they got entangled with the enemy, it would be difficult to disengage.

These Austrian soldiers, scattered across Thuringia and Saxony, wouldn't be able to regroup for months.

An hour later, Moreau's Legion, taking over three hundred Austrian officers, headed southeast.

Ney spurred his horse to catch up with Moreau and whispered, "Are we resting at Pegnitz? Oh, that's too close to the enemy. Let's just go straight to Sulzbach."

Moreau shook his head. "That would mean losing our chance to rendezvous with Victor's Corps."

Victor's Corps had limited supplies and would find it difficult to obtain provisions after penetrating north of Wurmser. The main force needed to find an opportunity to reinforce them.

Ney frowned. "But Archduke Charles will surely send a large army to surround us."

"Isn't that precisely our objective?" Moreau asked, pointing north with his riding crop. "Let everyone rest for half a day in Pegnitz, then we'll return to Bayreuth."

...

South of Bamberg.

Inside the temporary Coalition Forces command post, Archduke Charles frowned, looking at the British man before him. "According to the Prince of Hechingen, there are at least 40,000 French soldiers on his front.

"Yesterday, Baron Degenfeld encountered an enemy force far outnumbering his own at Königshofen Village. Adding the 20,000 who slipped into Saxony, we should have over 100,000 French troops near us.

"I have reason to believe the French are preparing for a decisive battle with us in Bavaria."

'Hmm,' he thought, 'he hadn't considered that the French army could move over 40 kilometers in a single day; he simply assumed they were two separate armies.'

Marquis Wellesley took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone level. "Marshal, the Russian offensive along the Baden front has slowed.

"We cannot waste time here. Once French recruits are heavily reinforced in Karlsruhe, we will lose our best chance to defeat them."

In fact, Korsakov's Corps' losses at Schnait Town weren't particularly heavy; they only lost over 6,000 men – the British bore the brunt of the firepower, suffering over ten thousand casualties – but the ruthless, almost cold-blooded bayonet counter-charge by the French recruits severely crushed Russian morale.

Since that battle, the Russian army's advances had become cautious, and they hadn't dared to execute their favorite bayonet charges even once more.

Archduke Charles hesitated for a moment, then finally ordered, "Prince of Schwarzenberg, lead your army to Nuremberg.

"Bajzáth's Corps will defend Coburg.

"Neipperg's Corps will defend Forchheim.

"If we can eliminate the 100,000 French troops within Bavaria, it will be an equally devastating blow to France."

After his deployment, the Coalition Forces formed an airtight defensive line stretching from northern Bavaria to Saxony, simultaneously cutting off Moreau's Legion's retreat route back to France.

It must be said that Archduke Charles's tactics were flawless.

A successful large-scale encirclement like this would further strain France, already at a disadvantage in troop numbers, and at the same time, a major victory could boost the morale of the Coalition Forces.

Wellesley exclaimed, "But Baden..."

Archduke Charles gestured for him to sit down. "We can transfer all the defenders from Freiburg to Sir Graham's command."

Freiburg, a crucial stronghold for Austria guarding Switzerland and the Rhine River, had always garrisoned over 15,000 soldiers.

With the Coalition Forces currently maintaining a full offensive, Freiburg faced virtually no threat, so deploying these troops to the Baden front was perfectly acceptable.

...

Just as nearly 300,000 main Coalition Forces began their encirclement of Moreau, the inconspicuous Augereau's Corps was passing through Suhl, between Kassel and Bamberg.

This region was a cluster of small Holy Roman Empire states, essentially Austria's backyard, making it difficult for them to gather useful intelligence.

However, with Soult's and Moreau's armies drawing away enemy attention, he had yet to encounter any large-scale Coalition Forces' interception.

Murat, riding against the marching column, galloped to Augereau's side and exclaimed, "General, my men have discovered that Prussian troops have already entered Weimar. Jena also has some forces stationed there."

Augereau had his aide bring a map, quickly took some measurements, and immediately instructed a messenger, "Tell everyone to speed up. We must reach the vicinity of Weimar before tonight."

The Hussars had not detected enemy troops in Weimar yesterday, having scouted more than ten kilometers north of the city.

'That means these Prussian troops must have just arrived today,' he concluded.

If they moved fast enough, they could launch an attack before the enemy established a solid defensive line.

Augereau didn't even know how many enemy soldiers he was facing at this moment, but he knew he had to crush them, for his objective was singular: Berlin.

Twenty kilometers north of Weimar, William III rubbed his aching thigh, instinctively frowning. It was his first time marching so far with the army, and it was already quite an accomplishment that he hadn't fallen behind.

Marshal Möllendorf looked at the young King and gestured towards a carriage not far away. "Your Majesty, would you like to switch to the carriage?"

William III firmly shook his head. "No, I am the army's commander now; my warhorse is my companion."

Just then, a cavalryman rushed over, saluted him, and announced, "Your Majesty, merchants near Suhl reported seeing French troops passing through the outskirts this morning."

Marshal Möllendorf immediately frowned.

Three days ago, the French had been over one hundred kilometers away; they couldn't have reached Suhl so quickly.

It was a good thing he had departed early, otherwise, Weimar-Jena might well have been preemptively occupied by the French.

He knew that beyond this point lay an endless plain, where they would be forced into open-field battles with the French army.

He bowed to the King. "Your Majesty, leave the defense of Weimar to me. It would be better for you to return to Naumburg."

"No," William III declared proudly, "I will personally witness how you defeat the enemy from the front lines!"