Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 790 - 698 This is Our Mine (Seeking monthly

Chapter 790: Chapter 698: This is Our Mine! (Seeking monthly tickets at month-end)

Chapter 790: Chapter 698: This is Our Mine! (Seeking monthly tickets at month-end)

“Damn bastards, don’t even think about taking our mine!”

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

Beside the stone water trough on the east side of Chebiny Town, the old miner Wicha raised his gun and fired at the Austrian soldiers wearing gray-white military uniforms in the distance.

He had been a miner for over 20 years and never thought he would one day take to the battlefield to kill the enemy.

But he and his fellow workers were doing exceptionally well.

It had been more than half a month since the Austrian Army entered Krakow, and still, a significant part of Chebiny Town remained in the hands of Umyan Mining Company.

If anyone doubted the fighting will of these armed miners, reality would surely slap them hard across the face.

In fact, the miners were even more determined to defend Krakow than the military.

Previously, they could barely maintain a subsistence living, and if they fell sick or got injured, their families would go hungry.

But after the French investors brought in the most advanced steam engines, the silver mine’s output increased manifold, and their wages rose substantially. The mine also provided decent benefits.

Now, not only were they free from worrying about food and drink, but they also managed to eat meat two or three times a week, and new clothes and furniture were no longer just a fantasy.

Had they always been suffering, it might have been acceptable, but once people taste the sweet life, they would rather die than go back to the past.

Yes, “die” in the literal sense.

When they learned that the Austrians intended to take over the silver mine, they didn’t need any urging; they spontaneously gathered together, wielding the flintlock guns previously issued to deal with “bandits,” ready to defend the mine to the death.

The 200-plus Austrian soldiers in front of them were still over 80 steps away, basically outside the flintlock gun’s effective range.

But after a round of gunfire, they panicked and turned to flee as if hit by a cannon, some even throwing away their guns.

It wasn’t that the miners’ marksmanship was particularly exquisite; rather, the morale of the Austrian soldiers was incredibly low, with no one willing to take a bullet for this meaningless war.

The chief miner shouted loudly, “The enemy is retreating, cease fire!”

The battleline by the water trough immediately fell silent.

These miners had one very significant advantage: they were highly obedient—for mining, an extremely dangerous job, those who didn’t follow commands usually didn’t live long.

“These cowards!” Wicha’s son put away his ramrod, cursing with a laugh.

Voices from his coworkers nearby joined in, “Exactly, they didn’t even push as far as last time.”

“That thicket up ahead might just be the place they’ll never reach…”

All of a sudden, the captain yelled, “Watch out! They’re coming back!”

Wicha looked over relaxedly, only to see more than 300 Austrian soldiers advancing in tight column formation to the beat of the drum, pressing towards them.

Behind them were dozens of officers dressed in white and green uniforms.

And further away was General Wilmze and his staff.

This Austrian general had been forced to come to the frontlines himself, overseeing an attack on the scale of a battalion.

And he was extremely cautious, attacking with nearly ten times the troops—there were only about 40 miners on the side of the water trough.

The Austrian soldiers were pushed to advance until they were less than 40 steps away from the miners, then they raised their guns amid the officers’ angry shouts.

The miners fired as fast as they could, desperately, but their numbers were too few to inflict serious casualties on the enemy.

The previous rout of the Austrian forces was not due to their shooting skills.

“Fire—” an Austrian major shouted loudly.

Under the supervision of the enforcement team, soldiers from three companies had no choice but to pull the trigger.

A burst of dense gunfire swept across the town, instantly making nearly half of the miners groan and fall to the ground, hit by the bullets.

The numerical superiority of the Austrian Army was just too great. Once the real exchange of fire began, the miners simply couldn’t resist.

The miner captain, clutching his bullet-wounded arm, hoarsely shouted: “Retreat! Fall back to the jewelry store area!”

Old Vecha hurriedly pulled his son along, and they ran north with his coworkers.

Another round of gunfire sounded from behind, and when he looked back, he saw the captain still holding the flintlock gun in one hand, standing motionlessly in front of a trough.

With his head lowered, he continued running with his companions all the way to the jewelry store, only to find that the mercenary position here was also fiercely exchanging fire with the Austrian Army.

And the enemy clearly outnumbered his own side by several times.

Indeed, although the morale of the Austrian soldiers was low, Wilmze was still an experienced professional military officer. After noticing that his soldiers were lackluster in battle, he immediately carried out a half-month targeted deployment.

He dispersed all the soldiers around Chebiny Town, all fighting by battalion-level units. He sent out his own guard to supervise the fight along with battalion commanders, authorizing the shooting of any soldier who dared to retreat.

At the same time, he also personally patrolled the battlefield.

Under such strict orders, after five days of intense fighting, the 20,000-strong Austrian Army finally drove the guards of Umyan Mining Company out of Chebiny Town.

Surrounded by the sound of gunfire, old Vecha risked climbing to the rooftop of a two-story building, where he finally spotted the flag of the company’s Patrol Team.

He jumped down from the window and called to nearly a hundred miners gathered together: “At Mrs. Malush’s flower shop over there, hurry!”

By the time they reached the flower shop, they just heard the Patrol Team captain Makavsky telling a mercenary officer: “The enemy is too many, we have to retreat into Tarnovsk Mountain.”

After that, old Vecha led his son, following the Patrol Team towards the northwest direction.

Soon, gunfire was heard ahead.

Makavsky rode over, shouting loudly to everyone: “There’s the Austrian Army blocking ahead, everyone move east.”

Old Vecha nodded nervously, saying to his son, “He must be talking about the small road next to the ore washing pool, which also leads into the mountain.”

In truth, the bare mountains were not well-suited for defense.

But at this point, it was the only option they had.

A group of mercenaries covered their retreat while the rebel army of the mining company had just caught sight of the ore washing pool when cannon fire roared from ahead.

A “whoosh” of piercing air cut by, and a tree some ten steps away from old Vecha was blasted in half by a cannonball, with wood splinters flying everywhere.

Makavsky’s face turned ashen: “There’s enemy forces ahead too!”

However, with the Austrian Army’s main force on the flank and enemies behind, if they couldn’t get up the mountain, they would be surrounded and perish there.

Wilmze, who had previously interrogated captured locals, had a clear understanding of the terrain near the mines and had preemptively blocked all roads.

The morale of the Austrian soldiers might have been low, but when faced with the charging Poles, they had no choice but to open fire in self-defense.

Makavsky drew his Sword and shouted loudly: “Follow me and charge!”

The miners immediately let out a battle cry, “Don’t be afraid of them! This is our mine!”

“No one can stop us, everyone charge!”

Old Vecha followed the beat of the military drum, heading towards the Austrian infantry line blocking in front of the ore washing pool, and pulled his son, who was leading the charge, back to shield him behind himself.

Blood spurted out nearby, his coworkers fell one after another, but as long as the drumbeat did not cease, they continued to advance, until the flames spewing from the Austrian guns’ muzzles could be clearly seen.