Chapter 984: A Furious Roar
Van’er hauled himself upright. He checked his arms, his legs, his ribs — still there, all of it — and exhaled slowly.
Then he looked at the ground around him and his heart dropped.
Men near the Longsong Cannons had been run through by bone spears. Some lay still and he couldn’t tell which ones were breathing. Others, maimed, were crawling through the mud searching for their own severed limbs. Van’er forced himself not to look away, and he forced himself not to cry. The artillery battalion had been one of the first units His Majesty ever built and trained. It had fought the Duke of the Western Region, it had fought at Hermes, and it had seldom taken losses like this.
But he couldn’t afford to lament it now.
Miss Nana was at the battalion shelter. As long as a soldier still drew breath when they reached her, the Angel of the First Army would bring him back. That was what mattered.
“Anyone out there?” Van’er shouted, and crawled toward a man whose stomach had been torn open. “Somebody help me here!”
“Sir!” Two soldiers materialized through the smoke, running.
“Get him to the field hospital.” Van’er pressed the man’s intestines back into the wound — gently, firmly — stuffing the torn flesh along with them. “Don’t leave anything behind.”
“Sir,” the wounded man said through his teeth, his voice stripped thin by pain. “I…”
“Stop talking.” Van’er patted his cheek. “Save your strength to kill demons. You’ll be back soon — I’m counting on you to fire. You understand me?”
After they carried him off, Van’er found a field medic and asked, “Did you come from the camp?”
The man read the badge on Van’er’s shoulder and saluted. “Yes, sir. What do you need?”
“Nothing from me. Keep doing what you’re doing — the wounded come first.” Van’er waved him off. “What’s happening at the front?”
After the artillery suffered the spearing wave, thick smoke had swallowed everything within 500 meters. Van’er could see the nearest cannon and nothing beyond. He could hear running, somewhere in the distance, and occasional bursts of cannon and rifle fire. What he couldn’t understand was why no reinforcements had come — the field medics were here, but the reserves weren’t.
“The demons landed!” the field medic said quickly, still bandaging as he spoke. “I came from the central camp. I saw those winged monsters come down and engage the heavy infantry.”
So the demons had come down after spearing.
The chaos wasn’t from the spears alone — it was the infiltration at the rear. The reserves, normally positioned in the central zone, couldn’t push through to reinforce the cannons. And the front line was still holding because the front line hadn’t been hit.
Van’er understood exactly what he had to do.
Put the Longsong Cannons back into operation.
The enemy had silenced them to protect the approaching demon column — so he had to bring them back. As long as the front didn’t break, the heavy infantry would grind the infiltrators down. He had never understood where His Majesty had found warriors who could carry weapons the weight of field artillery and fight like something out of a legend, but one thing was certain: their capacity for battle matched the demons’ own.
“I’ll leave the wounded to you!”
Van’er crossed to the nearest ammunition crate, seized a shell with both hands, and lifted. He staggered to the muzzle. He pushed the shell into the bore.
Loaded the cannon.
Normally, two men. He finished it alone and was gasping by the time the breech was closed. He straightened up, breathed in hard, and began adjusting the firing angle based on the enemy’s last known marching speed.
He had just touched the elevation wheel when the field medic screamed.
“Sir — behind you!”
Van’er’s body reacted before his mind did. He threw himself sideways and hit the ground, rolling.
An axe rang off the breechblock above him — close enough to ruffle his hair — and struck a cascade of sparks from the metal.
Van’er looked up. A Mad Demon was staring back at him.
“GRAAAA—!”
It raised the axe and came at him, howling.
I’m done. He had a sword at his hip but he couldn’t draw it lying on the ground, and even standing it would not have mattered — demons were faster and stronger than men, and this one was already swinging.
He raised his hand anyway, instinctively, as if that would do anything.
Crack.
A wall of ice erupted between them. The axe struck it and sent crystals spraying across the mud. The demon rocked back.
I was saved.
Van’er turned. A blue-haired witch stood a few paces away, her hand still extended in a grabbing motion, her eyes fixed on the demon with an expression of absolute calm. “Come here,” she said to Van’er. “Behind me.”
He clenched his teeth and got his legs under him. They shook. He walked to her anyway.
“Gah, Vaaaakaaaa—”
Van’er didn’t speak the demon’s language, but the voice told him everything he needed to know: it was murderous. The demon circled wide around the ice wall and crouched low. The arm holding the axe began to swell.
The witch moved toward it.
Ice spread beneath her feet as she walked. She looked like winter given a body — still, cold, unhurried. When the demon swung, an icicle burst from the earth and sent the axe spinning wide. At the same moment the demon’s arm bent at an angle that arms should never bend, and a sliver of grayish-white bone pressed through the skin.
Before the demon could register the pain, the ice crept up from its ankles and sealed it in place — a statue, perfectly preserved in its howl.
“Thank you,” Van’er managed.
“It’s not over. There will be a second wave of spearing.” The witch looked up at the ash-filled sky. “Miss Molly!”
Van’er remembered then: the demons staggered their runs. The arm swelling had signaled the sky was dangerous again.
He didn’t know who Miss Molly was. He didn’t know why she hadn’t taken cover.
“Leave it to me.”
A young voice — almost a child’s — came from somewhere behind him.
Then Van’er saw it.
Above him, a half-transparent blue sphere appeared and began to expand. It grew until it covered a radius of ten meters. Two tentacles at opposite ends of the ball swept through the area, nudging the remaining soldiers with minor wounds inward, into the covered space, working with an unhurried steadiness until the last man was inside.
The second wave hit immediately after.
Five or six bone spears came down at lightning speed and struck the sphere. Van’er watched the surfaces ripple where the spearheads touched — like a stone dropped in deep water — and the ripples split and overlapped and rushed outward, and the sphere shuddered as though it might come apart. But the spears stopped, held in suspension several meters above the ground, and went no further.
“Good.” The blue-haired witch withdrew her ice and looked at Van’er. “It’s safe for now. You can retreat with your people.”
“No.” He bit down on it. “There’s something I haven’t finished.”
One step left.
Van’er limped back to the Longsong Cannon. He reached down, took hold of the matchlock, and pulled it toward him with everything he had.
The scorching air around the muzzle cleared the sky in a column.
After fifteen minutes of silence, the battlement thundered again.
Chapter 984: A Furious Roar
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
“Ugh…” Van’er scrambled to his feet. After confirming that his body and limbs were still in one piece, he breathed a sigh of relief.
But his heart soon sank the next moment.
Many people close to the Longsong Cannons had been penetrated by bone spears. It was hard to tell whether they were still alive. He saw some soldiers, who had been maimed by bones spears, searching for their broken limbs in the mud. Van’er managed to fight back tears. The artillery battalion was one of the very first squads built and trained by His Majesty. From the beginning when they had fought against the Duke of the Western Region, all the way to the attack at Hermes, they had seldom suffered defeats. Looking at the astonishing casualties, Van’er was heartbroken.
But, Van’er knew this was not the time for him to lament the loss. The angel of the First Army Miss Nana was currently at the battalion shelter. As long as the soldier sent to her was still breathing, Miss Angel would be able to heal him!
“Hello, anybody out there?” Van’er shouted as he crawled to one of the wounded soldiers in a critical condition who got his stomach stabbed. “Anybody help me?”
“Sir, we’re here!” Two soldiers came out of the smog, trotting to him.
“Send him to the field hospital.” Van’er stuffed the intestines spilling out of the soldier’s stomach back in, together with the torn pieces of flesh. “Make sure not to leave anything behind.”
“S-sir,” The soldier grimaced in pain. “I…”
“Stop talking. If you have the strength to talk, save it to kill demons.” Van’er patted his cheek. “Hope you’ll get better and be back soon, I’m relying on you to fire. Do you understand?”
After the wounded soldier was sent away, he ran to another field medic and asked, “Did you come from the camp?”
The man glanced at the badge on Van’er’s shoulder and saluted. “Yes, sir! Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Continue with your business. Taking care of the wounded is the top priority.” Van’er waved his hand. “What’s it like at the front?”
After the artillery suffered the attack, the battlements within 500 meters were enveloped by thick smoke. Except for the closest cannon, Van’er didn’t know anything about the other squads. He could only hear the patterings of running footsteps in distance, and the occasional roars of cannons and guns. He was a little surprised that there were no reinforcements at this point, even though the field medics had been called to the scene.
“The demons are coming from above!” The field medic answered hastily while bandaging a wounded soldier. “I just came from the central camp and saw those winged monsters land and engage the heavy infantry.”
The demons landed after spearing?
In other words, the present chaos was caused by the infiltration of enemies at the rear. That was why the reserves, who were usually positioned in the central zone, were not able to approach and reinforce the Longsong Cannons at the moment. It also explained why the front was still intact.
Realizing this, Van’er immediately understood what he should do.
He must put the Longsong Cannons back into operation.
The enemy wanted to prevent them from firing at the approaching demons, so he must stop them.
As long as the front line was not penetrated, the enemies would sooner or later be exterminated by the heavy infantry.
Although Van’er didn’t know where His Majesty had found those warriors with such monstrous strength, who could carry weapons comparable in weight to field artillery with ease, one thing was certain — their capacity for battle was only parallelled by the ferocious demons’.
“I’ll leave the wounded to you!”
Van’er ran to the ammunition case that had fallen to the ground and used all his strength to pick up a shell. He then staggered to the muzzle and pushed the shell into the bore.
Then he loaded the cannon.
It was actually two people’s work, but Van’er finished by himself. He was out of breath by the time the cannon was loaded. Van’er took a deep breath and started to adjust the firing angle based on the enemies’ previous marching speed.
At that moment, the field medic dashed toward him, shrieking.
“Sir, behind!”
In that second, Van’er felt his blood freeze. Immediately, he rolled to the ground before even turning around.
His instinct had saved him.
With a loud clink, an ax pelted past him, ruffling his hair, and hitting the breechblock, creating a series of sparks.
Van’er looked up and saw a mad demon glaring at him!
“GRAAAA—!” The Mad Demon raised its ax and stomped towards him, howling.
“I’m done,” Van’er thought to himself in despair. Although he had a sword around his waist, he could not draw it when he was on the ground. Even if he did have it in hand, it was impossible for him to block the blow, as demons were far stronger and faster than humans.
As the ax got closer, Van’er reached out his hand, attempting to block the strike…
“Crack!”
A wall of ice suddenly manifested between them. The ax smashed into the wall, sending ice crystals flying from its surface.
Was I… saved?
Van’er turned around in shock and saw a blue-haired witch performing a grabbing motion while watching the demon with a cool stare. She said to Van’er, “Come here, behind me.”
Van’er clenched his teeth. Although his legs were too shaky to support his weight, he somehow managed to get to his feet and walked to the witch.
“Gah, Vaaaakaaaa…”
Van’er had no knowledge of the demon’s language, but he could tell that it looked murderous and furious.
The demon dashed around the wall and crouched, the right arm with which it held its ax swelling rapidly.
The witch, surprisingly, drew closer to the demon, while ice slowly spread beneath her feet. She looked like the Goddess of Winter.
Just when the demon was about to strike, an icicle burst from the ground and sent the ax flying. In the meantime, the demon’s arm was bent at a strange angle. A fraction of its grayish white bone was exposed to the air, hardly covered by any flesh. It was a gruesome scene to behold.
Before the demon could even give a yelp of pain, the ice crystals proliferated rapidly from its ankles and turned it into an ice statue.
“Th-thank you.” Van’er let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s not over yet. There’s going to be a second round of spearing.” The witch looked up at the sky, which was currently filled with ash and smoke, and called out. “Miss Molly!”
Van’er suddenly remembered that there was actually a time gap between each spearing attack. As the demon had just bulked up his arm, it meant that the sky was dangerous once again.
Van’er wondered who Miss Molly was and was puzzled why she didn’t seek shelter.
“Leave it to me.”
While Van’er was in bewilderment, a young, slightly childish voice came from the distance.
Then Van’er saw an incredible scene!
Above him suddenly appeared a half-transparent blue ball which gradually grew bigger in size. Soon, it covered the area within a radius of 10 meters. Two tentacles at both ends of the ball dragged the remaining soldiers with minor injuries into a covered area while swaying from side to side.
Right after all the wounded soldiers were transferred, the enemies launched their second attack.
Five or six bone spears pelted down at tremendous, lightning-like speed, and shot at the ball. Van’er could clearly see the spot where the head of the spear landed ripple as if the surface of the ball were a thick body of water. As the ripples split, overlapped and rushed forward, the ball started to tremble as though it would burst at any moment. However, the bone spears were stopped several meters above the ground.
“Good job.” The blue-haired witch withdrew her ice and looked at Van’er. “It’s safe here for now. You can retreat with your people.”
“No, there’s something I haven’t done yet.” Van’er grounded his teeth, forcing himself to get up. “I have to make these damn monsters suffer before I go.”
There was only one last step left.
Van’er shambled to the Longsong Cannon, limping. He picked up the matchlock and pulled toward him with all his strength!
The scorching air around the muzzle soon cleared sky. The battlement, after 15 minutes of silence, was once again filled with thunderous roars!