As a mere medic, too weak and utterly powerless, Lin Yu found her contributions to the war effort severely limited.
Much like the privates hunkered down in the front trenches, awaiting bombardment, she could only offer contributions that were barely more than symbolic: tending to the wounded, washing bloodied bandages, desperately clinging to the lives of those gravely injured and on the brink of death, and, ultimately, bidding farewell to those fated never to recover.
Contemporary warfare, however, bore little resemblance to battles of old; the possibility of a lone individual single-handedly reversing the tide of victory and defeat had vanished entirely.
Even if Lin Yu were to transform into a war god capable of single-handedly facing a hundred foes, she would still be felled by the bullet from the one hundred and first rifle, to say nothing of the trenches opposite, bristling with far more than a mere one hundred and one guns.
True “modern” warfare hinged upon artillery divisions, formidable fortifications, and the sheer courage and unwavering confidence to press on.
Lin Yu, incapable of conjuring cannons by hand or remotely obliterating enemy trenches, knew she had to devise an alternative strategy.
“If you insist on asking, I can certainly tell you, but you must first explain what you intend to do with such knowledge.”
Nangong, despite being a medic deployed in the rear, possessed a far greater understanding of the war than Lin Yu, a woman who, only a month prior, had been a simple village girl.
“I’m exploring if there’s a way to conclude this war once and for all.”
“That’s quite a bold claim, indeed.” Nangong rubbed her temples, slowing her steps ever so slightly as she cast a sidelong glance at Lin Yu. “If such a method existed, the Emperor would have employed it ages ago.
Who would willingly permit this war to persist, constantly bleeding the national treasury dry?”
“I never claimed I *could* end it,” Lin Yu countered, waving a dismissive hand.
“I merely wish to explore efforts from a different angle.” She indicated she harbored no absolute certainty, only a desire to attempt something in this uncharted territory.
“What sort of angle?”
“Have you ever heard of being surrounded on all sides—*cough, cough*—Nangong, perhaps you could first apprise me of the current situation?
I need at least some intelligence before I can truly lay out my plan.”
Nangong then proceeded to share some fundamental details with Lin Yu.
“The Republic of Lanfors,” Nangong began, reciting information that might have come straight from a textbook, “is an island nation situated in the distant west, and one of the pivotal origins of magical industry.
Boasting a formidable navy and extensive colonial holdings, it is currently deploying troops from across the globe to engage us in a full-scale conflict, all for the suzerainty of the Mountain Nation.”
“As for the root cause of this invasion… the Mountain Nation is exceptionally rich in both flax and palm oil.
The former serves as a vital raw material for the textile industry, while the latter is an indispensable solvent, forming the very backbone of the alchemical arts.”
From the Lanforsians’ perspective, seizing control of these premium resources was absolutely critical for sustaining the operations of their colossal magical industrial complex.
“So,” Lin Yu concluded, offering a preliminary summary, “those Lanforsians have traveled thousands of miles from every corner of the world to the coasts of the Far East, only to huddle in trenches, firing rifles and enduring bombardments, merely for the selfish gains of a handful of industrial magnates?”
To be frank, even Nangong found the stated reasons for the war between Lanfors and Diacla utterly preposterous, let alone Lin Yu herself.
Under the thinly veiled pretext of protecting expatriate citizens, Lanfors dispatched its military to intervene in the Mountain Nation’s domestic affairs, simultaneously meddling in its internal politics and implementing policies that facilitated Lanforsian trade exploitation.
The Mountain Nation, realizing it stood no chance against such a formidable army and the world’s second-largest naval fleet, promptly summoned its venerable suzerain for assistance.
Diacla had served as the suzerain of the Mountain Nation for no less than several centuries; indeed, hundreds of years prior, this very land had been newly settled and developed by the Diaclan people themselves.
The phrase “since ancient times” perfectly encapsulated Diacla’s enduring relationship with the Mountain Nation.
However, Diacla’s influence had waned considerably from its former strength, with its traditional sphere of influence steadily being encroached upon by the Western powers, most notably Lanfors.
Thus, to safeguard the authority of the traditional suzerain, to ensure future access to those vital resources, and to staunchly defend the national and territorial sovereignty of its ally, the reigning Emperor, several years prior, had boldly declared “military operations” against Lanfors, a de facto “war” that had relentlessly persisted into the current year.
“Lin Yu, there’s a crucial truth you must grasp: Lanforsians are notoriously idiotic, valuing gold coins far above their own lives.
Their swords and guns are wielded in defense of their merchant ships, and those merchant ships exist solely to accrue more gold coins.
Wherever profit beckons, the Lanforsians will brazenly intervene, utterly devoid of hesitation.”
Nangong further illuminated Lin Yu with a snippet of common knowledge she had never encountered before.
Naturally, this discourse did nothing to alter Lin Yu’s conviction.
Could anyone truly be more idiotic than someone like her, who had traveled thousands of miles to those dark lands only to offer herself up for death?
No matter how foolish, could they ever truly mirror her former self?
Lin Yu herself had intimately experienced the profound preciousness of life: over a decade ago, amidst a treacherous minefield, and merely dozens of days prior, within a desolate no-man’s-land.
While some wars might indeed be worth a soldier’s sacrifice, others were utterly unworthy of a life needlessly squandered.
“After years of relentless warfare, has even a single gold coin trickled into the pockets of the common Lanforsian soldiers?
They are, after all, merely ordinary people like us, enduring the agonizing pain and paralyzing fear that war inflicts.
Given the slightest opportunity, who among them would willingly choose to continue crouching in these brutal, unforgiving trenches, perpetually subjected to bullets and shells?”
“Your meaning is…?”
“We’ll use propaganda, not bullets; promises, not shells.
Nangong, I intend to orchestrate a psychological offensive.”
The power inherent in language far surpasses that of weaponry.
Defensive lines impervious to artillery barrages and bunkers impenetrable by bullets are, in the end, manned by living, breathing human beings.
They might endure relentless bombardments by sheltering in dugouts, or evade gunfire by shrinking behind sandbags, yet they are utterly incapable of suppressing the profound yearning for peace that stirs within their hearts.
This war, confined to the borders of the Mountain Nation, has left the civilians of both sides untouched; the soldiers themselves harbor no personal blood feud, merely following orders from their superiors to engage in this brutal, day-in, day-out slaughter.
Lin Yu then meticulously outlined her modest plan to Nangong.
“Firstly, ‘Surrounded by Chu songs’—though, it seems this world lacks that particular idiom, so let’s simply call it a ‘sonic attack’; it sounds rather more impressive.
The first step involves collecting, or even spontaneously composing, some Lanforsian folk songs.
These will then be compiled into anti-war anthems and broadcast relentlessly via loudspeakers, with the absolute aim of embedding these songs deep within the enemy’s hearts and minds.
Secondly, we will distribute leaflets.
Anti-war propaganda will be printed onto leaflets and then dispersed over enemy positions by artillery fire or any other available means, with a focus on maximizing their quantity.
These leaflets will articulate Diacla’s lack of desire to prolong the war, asserting that all hostile actions are merely the regrettable consequence of the Lanforsian high command’s contempt for the lives of their lower-ranking soldiers, all in pursuit of profit.
The objective is to ensure that anti-war sentiment becomes rampant within the opposing army.
Thirdly, we will inflict casualties.
We will either feign a degree of weakness or actively provoke the enemy into launching an offensive, then respond with a robust defense to inflict truly devastating casualties upon them.
Finally, we will await their inevitable self-destruction.
The human spirit is akin to a line of dominoes; once a single individual collapses, a multitude will swiftly follow, losing their will to fight.
Endless, futile offensives, coupled with appallingly harsh conditions and utterly meaningless deaths, will collectively precipitate a ‘great strike’ within the enemy army.
Much like the French army experienced during the First World War in her previous life.
Then, seizing the opportune moment, we can either propose peace negotiations or, perhaps, simply launch a decisive assault to drive them all into the sea, where they might feed the fish.”
“I lean towards the former option; after all, Lanforsians are human too.
They have their families and their lives, and surrender is undeniably a more humane fate than direct drowning.”
The indistinct face of that Lanforsian soldier surfaced in Lin Yu’s mind.
“Can such a plan truly succeed?”
Inside the tent, Nangong swiftly scribbled down the crucial points of Lin Yu’s discourse, yet she found herself unable to resist questioning certain aspects.
“I can’t shake the feeling that some elements of this plan are a touch…wishful thinking,” she mused.
Observing Nangong’s expression, it became clear that no one before had likely ever conceived of erecting loudspeakers on the front lines to broadcast songs or scatter leaflets.
“We’ve been entrenched in these two lines of trenches for years now; heavy artillery has pounded them countless times, and infantry has charged them just as often.
Has there been even the slightest discernible change?
Why not pivot to a different approach?
It won’t consume excessive resources, and if it succeeds in utterly shattering the enemy’s morale, wouldn’t that be an immense victory?”
Lin Yu spoke with unwavering conviction; this was, after all, one of the precious few contributions she could offer to the Diacla army beyond her duties of healing and saving lives.
In truth, she possessed even greater capabilities, but she remained unwilling to unseal those particular Pandora’s boxes.
Not yet, at least.
“Given your profound confidence, I will place my trust in you.
While this certainly deviates from standard procedure, my rapport with the Lieutenant Colonel should ensure that submitting this plan poses no insurmountable obstacle.”
Nangong carefully tore the sheet from her notebook, folded it with precision, and then tucked it securely back into her pocket.
“I’ll ensure this plan reaches the Lieutenant Colonel’s desk.
Your clever little mind, it seems, occasionally conjures up quite astonishing things.”
‘Should I, perhaps, take that as a compliment to my intelligence?’
“If you find yourself with nothing to do, how about lending a hand and washing my dirty clothes?”
“Tsk…”
Washing clothes was the last thing she wanted to do.