Following the order, the massive war machine began to operate once more.
The menacing barrel of the 'Gungnir' slowly retracted into the carriage, and the enormous hydraulic support arms pulled out from the ballast laid beside the tracks.
The entire train soon began to reverse slowly, retreating towards the outskirts of the city.
The Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers also moved quickly; two companies boarded trucks and advanced along the roads outside the station, covering the Armored Train.
The other two companies, led by Kleist and Manstein, quickly rushed to the perimeter of the 10th Arrondissement and began building defensive positions using the streets and buildings.
In the sky, Armored Airship No. L29 also used light signals to notify the distant L28, instructing it to retreat together and warn friendly Saxon Troops inside the city.
L28 quickly responded, and the two massive airships flew slowly eastward, one following the other.
At the same time, the two Armored Airships used megaphones to issue a warning to all Saxon Troops inside the city.
Over twenty minutes later, the Armored Train 'Odin' successfully retreated to a safe area outside Paris.
Morin and Colonel Lucas wasted no time, immediately jumping onto a truck and speeding toward the temporary command post of the First Army Group.
Meanwhile, Armored Airship No. L29 slowly descended onto the temporary Armored Airship maintenance platform, which had been set up after the main forces arrived yesterday.
Colonel Schneider, equally anxious, jumped off the airship and boarded the vehicle sent to meet him, rushing to the command post.
When the three of them arrived at the enormous command tent almost simultaneously, General Mackensen and Lieutenant General Seeckt were discussing something while looking at a massive map of Paris.
The atmosphere inside the tent was tense, and all the staff officers were bustling back and forth.
"General!"
"You're here."
General Mackensen looked up, and upon seeing them, forced a slight expression onto his tired face.
"We generally know the situation, but tell us the specifics… and your views and plans."
"Yes, sir!"
Colonel Lucas stepped forward and reported in detail the joint operation plan they had just formulated: an Armored Train assault combined with high-altitude bombing by Armored Airships.
While he was reporting, Morin supplemented the information regarding the threat posed by Necromancy spells.
He emphasized the increasingly dense negative energy and the huge hidden danger of the Paris Catacombs, and highlighted his speculation: the Gauls were likely conducting a city-wide, large-scale Undead Conversion Ritual.
After hearing the three men's report, Mackensen and Seeckt's expressions grew even graver.
"Undead Scourge…"
Lieutenant General Seeckt muttered to himself, pushing up his monocle, his gaze flickering behind the lens.
"If it is truly as Captain Morin says, then the coming battle will likely be far tougher than we imagined."
General Mackensen remained silent, tapping the tabletop repeatedly with his finger.
As a battle-hardened commander, he was considering more than just military issues.
The soldiers of the First Army Group had been engaged in continuous high-intensity combat for over a month since the war began.
Their mental and physical strength had long been stretched to the limit.
The only reason they were still holding on was the belief that they would "capture Paris and achieve final victory."
Now, with victory within reach, a terrifying Mage Tower suddenly appeared, along with an Undead Army crawling out from underground.
To make these exhausted soldiers fight street battles against Skeleton Monsters that fear no death… Mackensen dared not imagine how severely the soldiers' morale would be hit, possibly leading to outright collapse.
The problem was, the Eiffel Tower stood right there, and they couldn't just ignore it.
That thing wasn't just a super cannon platform; according to observations from the airship, there seemed to be a massive Teleportation Circle directly beneath the tower.
God knows when the Gaulish Mages might suddenly use that array to launch a counter-attack… If that happened, their troops already inside the city would be completely encircled.
To fight, or not to fight?
How to fight?
Silence fell over the command tent.
Just as everyone was at a loss and the atmosphere was extremely heavy, a staff officer suddenly strode in, breaking the silence.
"General, reporting!"
"Speak!" Mackensen commanded in a deep voice.
"Outside the tent, there is a man claiming to be the Archbishop of the Paris Archdiocese who wishes to see you."
"Archbishop?" Mackensen and Seeckt exchanged glances, both seeing a hint of surprise in the other's eyes.
Someone from the Holy See?
However, they quickly realized that if large-scale Necromancy spells truly appeared in Paris, it was impossible for the Holy See's highest representative in Paris to stand idly by.
"Let him in." Mackensen waved his hand.
Soon, escorted by several slightly wary Saxon soldiers, an elderly man wearing bishop's vestments over chainmail and a half-plate, accompanied by several similarly solemn Armored Priests, walked into the command tent.
The eyes of all the Saxon officers in the tent fell simultaneously upon this unexpected visitor.
Facing a room full of scrutinizing and hostile gazes, the elder showed no fear. He calmly scanned the room once, finally resting his eyes on General Mackensen, who was seated at the main position.
"I am Maurice, Archbishop of the Holy See's Paris Archdiocese."
He bowed slightly and said in a tone neither humble nor arrogant, "I apologize for disturbing Your Excellency the General at this time."
Mackensen nodded in return: "Archbishop Maurice, I assume you haven't come to accuse us before God, have you?"
His words carried a hint of the dark humor unique to old-school Saxon military men.
Archbishop Maurice shook his head, getting straight to the point: "Of course not. I am here because I require Your Excellency the General's assistance."
"Assistance?" Mackensen raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Maurice nodded, his expression becoming extremely serious.
"Your Excellency the General, I believe you have already noticed… a vast and wicked necromantic power is awakening in this city. Someone is using the power of that steel tower to try and turn Paris into a true City of Death."
"We are already aware," Mackensen stated gravely.
"No, you do not know the severity of the situation."
Maurice shook his head, his voice tinged with urgency.
"The bones sleeping in the Paris Catacombs are centuries old… Even if awakened by Necromancy spells, they can only become the weakest skeletons, and aside from their large numbers, they pose no fatal threat to a well-equipped army."
Hearing this, the officers in the tent subconsciously nodded.
Morin's internal assessment was similar: they were just skeleton soldiers; they sounded scary, but they were ultimately just piles of bones that would shatter with a burst of machine-gun fire.
"But!" Maurice suddenly changed tack, raising his voice sharply, "There are still large numbers of civilians in Paris who have not had time to evacuate!"
"Once these skeletons surge out from underground and begin indiscriminate slaughter in the city… the newly dead, resentful souls and fresh corpses, when converted by Necromancy spells, won't just turn into skeletons…"
His words caused everyone present to feel their hearts sink sharply.
Morin even opened his system interface to look at the spell list—he was indeed unfamiliar with School of Necromancy spells and had never considered studying them.
He quickly discovered that the two Necromancy spells at the Eiffel Tower could convert corpses into completely different Undead creatures based on their "freshness"!
The most common skeletons are merely frames of bone driven by negative energy, lacking thought, slow-moving, and are the lowest level of cannon fodder.
But if the corpses are fresh, they could be converted into ghouls, or even wights!
Ghouls possess strength and speed far exceeding ordinary humans, and their claws and teeth carry potent venom and paralyzing effects.
Wights are even more terrifying; they retain a portion of their former intelligence and can even command lower-level Undead.
If the civilians in Paris were slaughtered and then converted into ghouls and wights…
What a horrifying sight that would be!
"Your Excellency the Archbishop…"
General Mackensen's voice grew dry. He swallowed and then continued, "Are you suggesting you want us to prevent all this from happening?"
"Not suggesting, but pleading."
Maurice adopted a very humble stance, bowing deeply to Mackensen.
"In my capacity as the Archbishop of the Holy See's Paris Archdiocese, I implore Your Excellency the General to immediately dispatch troops to assist us in evacuating all surviving civilians from the city to the greatest extent possible!"
"Otherwise, once that madman hiding in the tower succeeds, Paris will be completely reduced to a cursed City of Death!"
"At that point, let alone you… even we will never be able to set foot here again!"
Mackensen and Seeckt exchanged glances, both seeing extreme solemnity and a hint of… relief in the other's eyes.
Relief that the Archbishop's timely arrival had made them aware of this most fatal threat.
Mackensen pondered for a moment.
As an astute military commander, he immediately recognized the immense value inherent in this matter.
Cooperating with the Holy See to evacuate the citizens of Paris was not just a military operation… it was also an excellent opportunity to showcase the Saxon Empire's image as a "Righteous Army" to the entire world.
Mackensen slowly spoke, his voice regaining its composure: "Your Excellency the Archbishop, we can cooperate… the Saxon First Army Group can assist you in evacuating the citizens."
Hearing this, a hint of joy appeared on Maurice's face.
"But…" Mackensen changed the subject, "I also have a condition."
"Please state your condition, General."
"After this matter is concluded, I require you to represent the Paris Archdiocese, and I even hope you can persuade the Holy See… to publicly speak out to all of Europa, exposing and condemning the Gallic Republic government for carrying out such inhumane, blasphemous, and evil acts in their own capital!"
Mackensen's gaze was sharp as a knife, fixed directly on Maurice's eyes.
This was an open conspiracy.
As long as the Holy See spoke out, the nature of this war would change…
Maurice fell silent.
He knew this was a blatant political transaction.
But he had no choice.
For the innocent lives in Paris, and to prevent the city from turning into hell, he had to agree.