Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 578 - 396: Saving the Collapsing Building (Part 5)

Chapter 578: Chapter 396: Saving the Collapsing Building (Part 5)

4:01 PM. South of Nobel City.

Mann Andre.

The Mayor of Nobel was loading his shotgun; the city walls were currently in battle—the army of Black Orcs had received reinforcements at 3 PM, the exact number unconfirmed, but the reinforcements had given these Black Orcs courage, and they launched a fierce attack. Mann took people to the city walls at the first opportunity, and although the City Guards and the Defense Army soldiers were shooting, it was apparent that the Black Orcs could not be taken down with just a bullet or two, and when the cannons also failed to deter their advance, the walls inevitably became a battlefield.

After loading the shells, he raised his long, double-barreled shotgun and fired directly with buckshot, hitting a Black Orc that had just poked its head over from outside the wall. When it fell, Mann heard howling—it was the sound of Black Orcs pushing a battering ram.

Peeking over the wall, Mann couldn’t see the battering ram, but he could hear the sound of its wheels just below the city gate.

Mayor Mann rushed into the gatehouse tunnel, lifted the cover from the floor, and saw the battering ram had already approached the gate.

"Incendiary shells! Oil barrels!" Mann shouted loudly.

Two half-grown boys brought over oil barrels, which Mann opened. As he poured out the oil, thinking it was not fast enough, the Mayor grabbed a hammer from the nearby wall, punched a few holes in the barrels with the claw side, then kicked them over.

By this time, the battering ram had begun to hit the city gate.

The half-grown boys handed a lit torch to Mann, who motioned for them to throw the torch directly down.

Then, as the fire blazed, Mann replaced the lid and reinserted the bolts: "Call for help if there’s trouble!"

He then dashed out of the gatehouse tunnel, reversed his shotgun, and used the butt to turn the ugly face of a Black Orc that had just climbed up into a bloody mess.

"They’re retreating!" someone shouted from the artillery position.

Mann, who had just clubbed a Black Orc’s head in with the butt of his shotgun, heard this and looked towards the city wall.

He saw the Black Orcs reversing their formation.

What were they doing?

Mann looked off into the distance, where the hills lay empty.

But in the next moment, a flag rose, and then Mann spotted a standard-bearer.

He stood on the hilltop, then raised his left hand, "Guards Army! Advance!"

All the Black Orcs on the wall who could still move had been killed, Mann stood up, and with all the other defenders who could still stand, watched as a whole column of soldiers crossed the hilltop.

Like a tide, men crested the hill, and as they began their descent, a second column of soldiers emerged on the crest, more and more, bringing shock and awe to everyone on the wall.

...

"They’ve finally spotted us." Malin watched the giant bats to the north start to gather and fly towards them; flag in hand, Malin glanced at the group of commanders standing together, "Let’s move forward."

"Salute to you, Sir Malin," the battalion commanders saluted and then returned to their units, while Malin looked to Ataf, the division commander who had donned his cap, "Sir Malin, no matter what, it is the highest honor to fight alongside you this time."

Malin nodded, looking at the soldiers lined up in formation, some young and seemingly naive, others with graying temples.

But they rested their firearms on their shoulders, waiting for Malin’s command.

"Say something, Mr. Malin," Ataf said, looking at Malin.

"... Soldiers! Since the dawn of history, humanity has seen thirteen millennia!" Malin addressed the soldiers before him, deciding to tell a story no one had ever told before, "As masters of this world, we have fought against each other! Controlled by our shallowness and ignorance! Fooled by ambitious and madmen! Until eight thousand years ago! Humanity achieved unity, and everyone strove towards a grand goal! We had once escaped the shackles of gravity, left the land under our feet for a vaster world! Until Chaos destroyed everything!"

Malin looked at the soldiers, some not understanding his words, but this didn’t mean they didn’t like this novel way of speaking.

"Among our ancestors, some have fallen, some despaired, but many more stood together, time and again, attempting to save our crumbling realm, to patch the rifts in the sky... They failed because civilization was interrupted, we forgot our past greatness... but they also succeeded! Because today we still stand on this land! Humanity is still the master of this planet under our feet! The Black Orcs have brought us too much pain and disaster throughout this millennium, and today, Fate has brought us here, for the sole purpose of telling these man-eating demons that we will return the suffering we have endured! Perhaps one day in the future, we will storm their lairs and exterminate these Black Orcs once and for all! But let the future take care of the future, soldiers! Today, our task, like that of our ancestors, is the same! Let us cross this hilltop!"

Malin paused, then raised his left hand high, "Invincible in battle!"

The soldiers echoed Malin’s shout.

Malin turned and headed for the hilltop.

Footsteps behind him were initially scattered, then gradually merged into one sound.

At the hilltop, the Black Orcs were hastily withdrawing from the siege, Malin pointed towards the enemy, "Guards Army! Advance!"

The first column of soldiers passed by him, morale high as they marched towards the hilltop.

Then came the second column, the third, and more soldiers filed past Malin in formation.

Malin turned his head to see Bear Artillerymen pushing assembled field cannons and rapid-fire guns to flank on either side.

The nearby Wood Elf archers arrived in formation beside Malin. Residents of the nearby forest, upon hearing that the human army would face the Black Orcs, these Wood Elves gathered a longbow team of five hundred to follow Malin, saying they were fulfilling the alliance oath between Elves and humans.

Malin accepted their inclusion and then gave them a task—deal with those giant bats.

The leader of the Wood Elves gave Malin a very polite smile, "After we take care of those little nuisances, I hope you’ll allow us the freedom to shoot."

"Once the sky is bereft of the Black Orcs’ giant bats, you may shoot any Black Orc that enters your sight, but leave a few for me at the end. I want to present their heads to my beloved, so she too can see some blood."

"As you wish," the leader said, returning to the formation of longbowmen.

"The enemy’s wolf cavalry has begun to assemble, Your Excellency," reported a young saint heir from the Church of Justice, approaching Malin.

"Don’t worry. Trust me, there are plenty of Black Orc heads here worth your blades. Now, let my rapid-fire cannon team deal with those wolf riders," Malin instructed, nodding to the bearman leader who awaited his command.

The latter also nodded to confirm he had seen Malin’s signal, and then the rapid-fire cannon team began to prepare their firing range.

Malin walked toward the base of the hill, signaling to Maya to continue leading the group of shamans—a unit of twelve shamans from the Panthesau tribe who had joined mid-way, following the commands of the High Divine Master.

Malin tasked Maya with defending the positions of the longbowmen and the artillery—mages would draw a mud-from-stone barrier in the air before the Black Orc infantry approached, then take out the daring Black Orc magicians who stood out.

Malin also told the artillery to prioritize any Black Orc magicians they spotted.

The Black Orc wolf cavalry began to advance.

The first row of soldiers, who had been using tools to dig pitfalls, set them aside and began to organize their formation as they saw the opposing wolf riders set out.

The front three rows of soldiers raised their firearms.

Malin approached the front line: "Steady!" he shouted.

Hearing Malin’s command, the company-level commanders in the first row began to convey the orders.

"Your Excellency Malin," said a ranger responsible for measuring range, arriving beside Malin, "Lord Joe asks if his sharpshooters can fire freely."

"Yes, tell the troops that Joe’s sharpshooters in the middle of the hill may begin to fire at will."

The ranger turned and ran back.

Malin watched as the wolf riders picked up speed: "Five hundred yards! Steady!"

The soldiers held their guns.

The wolf riders had passed the four hundred yards, then three hundred yards—some of them started to lob their bows before crossing the two hundred yard firing line, but such long-distance throws were inaccurate; Malin even caught an arrow and snapped it in his hand.

As the wolf riders passed the two hundred yard mark of no return, Malin forcefully waved his raised hand downward.

The soldiers equipped with semi-automatic weapons began firing, and the rapid-fire cannon team atop the hill also commenced operation.

Metal bullets formed a wall at this moment.

Wolves and their riders fell continuously, some struck by rifle bullets, others shredded by the ruthless whiplike machine guns.

Of the thousands of wolf riders, only about two hundred rode past the one hundred yard mark.

The second row of soldiers joined the firing, and the rapid-fire cannons began changing their ammunition belts.

Roughly fifty riders approached the fifty-yard line.

Malin raised his hand.

The soldiers ceased fire.

The last few riders charged towards Malin, only to shatter against an invisible barrier and vanish in a puff of smoke.

.........

"My God, is this how mages fight?" Upon witnessing the scene before him, Aljom, who had no understanding of spell formations, couldn’t help but exclaim to his old friend Ataf beside him.

"You’re asking someone as unlucky as me, with an affinity of only three in all elements, you’re being a tad unfair," Ataf gave his old friend the side-eye.

"Oh, then forget I said anything," Aljom replied, turning his attention to the distant cannonade which caught his notice of the situation on the wall: "How can the cannons of Nobel City fire so far?"

"They must be the replaced heavy fortress cannons from last year. I heard someone bought them, and now it seems we’ve found the buyer," Ataf said, glancing at the Black Orc troops advancing towards them: "It’s quite a sight, isn’t it? Thirty thousand, or forty thousand? This must be the biggest Black Orc surge in our world in the last hundred years."

"All are records of our valor, Aljom," said the unit commander with a heartfelt sigh.

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