Chapter 422: The Consequences of Heroism
Bruno may have rushed through the breach of the besieged palace of Luxembourg, but he was no fool. He did so because he was intimately aware of its layout—not from frequent visits, but from one significant experience.
The original estate had been renovated during the Great War due to the damage Leon and his men had inflicted, followed by the devastation of Hindenburg’s Folly. The French Army, in a drunken act of celebration, had razed the entire palace to the ground. Bruno, out of both loyalty and strategic foresight, helped finance its reconstruction—alongside much of the city itself.
Many sections of Luxembourg had been rebuilt with tactical defense in mind: chokepoints, kill zones, reinforced structures. All of it designed in case a small force ever needed to hold out during a siege.
Because of this, Bruno knew the entryway allowed space for two men side by side—no more. He also knew there were elevated 360-degree positions from which Luxembourgish gendarmes could rain fire on invaders. And from the sheer volume of blood staining the walls and floors, it was clear the French brigands had taken a beating long before the Werwolf Brigade arrived.
He had no doubt hundreds of French had died overnight, cut down by the determined local defenders.
Naturally, Bruno’s men followed him through the breach—not as quickly, but with no less urgency. They swept the halls, clearing them room by room with cold, efficient silence.
What unnerved the men most wasn’t the blood. It was Bruno.
He moved like one of them. Too smoothly. His transitions were perfect. His signals crisp. He knew every whisper, every phrase, every protocol they’d learned in brutal training camps. He cleared corners like a man who had done this a thousand times.
And yet, they all knew him as a commander, a man of rank—a desk general, someone who should’ve been buried in maps and reports. When one considered the combat training he had received during his younger years? It was specifically tailored for an older style of warfare. It made no sense....
Yet, Bruno was here and now, moving like someone trained for a war that hadn’t been invented yet. The contradiction gnawed at the edge of their thoughts, but they had no time to dwell on it. They moved like ghosts through the bloodstained estate—until they found their first living hostiles.