Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 579 - 397: Saving the Collapsing Building (Part 6)

Chapter 579: Chapter 397: Saving the Collapsing Building (Part 6)

They were hoping to overwhelm us with numbers. Watching those Black Orcs stubbornly advancing in formation toward our side, Malin shook his head—if it were a hundred years ago, the Black Orcs could indeed use this method to combat the human legions, and they would even have a great chance of victory—because in the era of cold weapons, one Black Orc could fight against two or three humans without falling behind.

But today, when humans use firearms to combat the Black Orcs, not only has the manner of warfare changed, but so too has the fate of both sides.

The field cannon shells struck the Black Orc formation, raising copious amounts of flesh and blood, but these Black Orcs continued to advance.

"Your Excellency, at what distance should the machine guns fire?" A bearman ran down from the top of the hill, bowing his head as he awaited Malin’s instruction.

"Wait until their main forces reach three hundred yards," Malin said, and the bearman turned and ran toward his gun crew.

Malin watched as the second round of artillery fell, this time, the Black Orc troops showed some disturbances—the monsters could face the cannonade without collapsing, clearly never having experienced the extreme firing rate of light field cannons at twelve rounds a minute, bearman, as a high strength Orc race, could even achieve fourteen or fifteen rounds per minute.

And if Malin let the Wood Elves do it, they could reach a terrifying twenty rounds per minute.

Of course, Malin didn’t want to break the Black Orcs just now—after all, tens of thousands of pigs couldn’t be caught all at once.

Today, humanity must utterly eliminate this wave of Black Orc Tide of the Dead.

The doubts in the Black Orc Tide of the Dead were quickly quelled, and they began to accelerate.

Malin, holding the battle flag, gave a pause, "The last row, cross over the hilltop!"

The messenger turned and ran toward the hilltop, and quickly, the battle group belonging to Captain Aljom leapt over the hilltop, down the road, and finally arrived at the front line.

"Raise your guns!" Malin shouted loudly, his voice spreading across the entire battle line with the help of the spell formation.

No longer needing the commands of junior officers, soldiers on the front line began raising their firearms.

The Black Orcs began to accelerate.

Giant bats started to charge toward the hilltop, but quickly, they became the best targets, the Wood Elf archers were the most skilled at shooting large creatures.

When the last bat lost its strength and crashed before the defensive line, Malin swung his left hand down, "Fire."

In response to Malin were synchronized gunfire, smokeless powder didn’t obscure the battlefield, one could see the Black Orcs’ front row falling to the ground like reaped wheat, in a very uniform motion.

"Five rounds rapid fire!"

Then continuous gunfire erupted, rows upon rows of Black Orcs fell.

In the central formation, the front row of Black Orcs had lost nearly half of its members.

Sounds of horns emerged from the Black Orc line, the Black Orcs started to run.

Aljom’s troops withdrew in unison, they began to reload.

Meanwhile, Ataf’s first regiment was still at the forefront; they reloaded swiftly and raised their firearms for free shooting on Malin’s command.

The rapid-firing machine guns began to shoot, targeting specifically the right flank marked by Malin previously.

Malin once again raised the battle flag sharply, as the reserves, Carol’s group, leaped over the hilltop and joined the foremost right side.

The mages’ Flame Burst Spells began their onslaught, together with the field cannons, tossing the Beastmen into the air with each strike.

Arrows rose from behind the Black Orc formation.

Planting the battle flag into the ground, Malin raised both hands high, and a strong wind the next second blew those arrows far afield.

The arrows continued to ascend, but each time, they were dispersed by the strong wind from Malin.

The soldiers were first surprised, then cheered, and then the morale of the soldiers along the entire defensive line surged more and more.

The Black Orcs pressed on, bleeding with every step, those holding shields were knocked down by bullets still clutching their shields, formations of shields were shattered by cannonballs, Black Orc magicians were killed by magicians multiples their numbers, those Beastmen trying to shoot arrows long-range kept on till exhausted, unable to avoid the fruitless outcome.

But in the next second, a group of field cannons raised their barrels, and archers spread death equitably among them.

Malin stopped the mages who wanted to inquire about setting up the Mire of Petrification area, then raised the battle flag.

The mages began to use large scale lethal spell formations to join in the killing of the Beastmen.

The Black Orcs were still advancing, even though their pace was getting slower, their eyes more bloodthirsty.

But what Malin saw was their numbness and confusion, as if they were wondering why they couldn’t reach these humans even though their feet hadn’t stopped.

Because times had changed, indeed.

"First line of soldiers!" the spell formation helped Malin’s voice to spread across the entire battlefield, "Fix bayonets!"

The soldiers of the Ataf contingent immediately stopped shooting; they pulled the bayonets from their waist pouches and placed them on the bayonet mounts of their guns.

Then, the various nations’ defense forces’ soldiers finally caught on.

"Advance! Shoot! Thrust with bayonets!" Malin finished, light flashed in his left hand, and the soldiers in the first row found themselves as if clad in a layer of armor.

Malin drew his revolver, took a step forward, and pulled the trigger at the distant Black Orcs.

Then the sound of gunfire erupted continuously, and the roaring Black Orcs once again fell in swathes. Long spears were thrown towards him, but they could not advance further than a few centimeters from Malin, ultimately dropping to the ground.

Walking slowly, he sought a new victim for the revolver in his hand. A Black Orc, just having thrown a spear but realizing it had not killed its target, was still in confusion when a bullet burrowed into its eye socket, turning it into the new fertilizer of the grassland beneath their feet.

Behind him, the human soldiers also began to hasten their pace. When the second volley of fire brought down a swath of Black Orcs, and after the third volley the human soldiers charged into the disorganized ranks of the Black Orcs, stabbing to death any who dared to resist with their bayonets, it was as if something had been triggered. The Black Orcs no longer roared, but instead threw down their shields and long swords and began to flee.

"Invincible in battle!" Malin emptied his revolver, and Fio handed him another fully loaded one. While shooting at the cowards, he raised the battle flag, "Advance! Guards Army!"

What this world needs is civilization to ultimately triumph over barbarism, is kindness to crush malice, and is for a hand to write about justice.

.........

Sitting atop a military horse, watching the young man below holding the battle flag and facing the Black Orcs with a single line formation, ultimately pushing the morale of the Black Orcs down into the abyss, the Saint Heir of Nameless wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye.

When this kid called Malin said the Black Orcs were not to be feared, Victor Reznov thought that the moment the Black Orcs broke through the defenses, he would lead the knights in a flanking attack on the Black Orcs’ Magician group—this was the Church of Justice’s foolproof choice in the hundreds of years of combating the Black Orc tide.

In Victor’s life, too many companions left him—battlefields were perilous, a stray arrow, a flying spear, could at any moment cause friends to part, lovers to die, companions to become memories in photos and paintings, happiness to become a thing of the past to be remembered.

But today, he witnessed a boy fulfill his promise.

Just like in the stories, with a speed that Victor could hardly believe, with a level of perfection he had never seen before.

"Sir Victor..." the cavalry commander beside him asked softly with a hint of confusion.

"Ah, it is finally our turn, gentlemen! Helm on! Sir Malin orders us to chop off the heads of the Black Orcs! Forward..." Before putting on his helmet, Victor Reznov added another sentence.

"Invincible in battle!"

Aljom was almost going insane—having thought of many possibilities and as an old friend of Ataf, he was even prepared for his entire battalion to be expended. He and his comrades were ready to take responsibility for the rear guard.

But at the moment of victory, he felt somewhat... yes, at a loss.

The revolver in his hand had long been emptied, and now it was his own Guards captain who handed him a shotgun. He led his direct troops, following right behind Sir Malin.

Yes, Sir, this young man achieved an incredible victory in his first command.

With twelve Defense Army battalions and a Guards Division at the core, they shattered the fearless charge of the Black Orc tide head-on!

Tens of thousands of Black Orcs were running across the plain like headless beasts! And their casualties were negligible!

When once again the line of firearms and bayonets crushed the small groups of Black Orcs trying to block them, Aljom and his soldiers quickened their steps to catch up with the young man.

"Invincible in battle!" he echoed loudly.

The Wood Elf leader watched the young Half-blood with a complex expression, having lowered his longbow.

When he first expressed his thoughts, the Wood Elf thought this boy must have read too many knight novels.

But when everything happened just as he said, and when this Black Orc tide headed towards disaster, for the first time, the Wood Elf leader took seriously what the Half-blood had said.

Technology changes life, firearms and cannons will change the face of war.

Thinking this, the Wood Elf leader looked up at the sky.

Someday, we will once again break free from the bonds of gravity... the Wood Elf, who had lived two centuries, finally smiled.

If the future of humanity is driven by prudent persons like Sir Malin, who make the most of what they have, then whether it is Wood Elves or any other beings, there will surely be a place for them to showcase their talents.

"Invincible in battle," he said, just as in the old days, when the diverse races of the civilized world stood united under that flag, facing the Tide of the Dead.

Watching her brother holding up the battle flag, Maya felt somewhat... hesitant to recognize him.

Her brother’s figure, at this moment, had grown so tall; so many people followed him, believing in him.

Ladies from the Benevolent Church came to congratulate Maya, who quickly responded with a courtesy.

Though a bit flustered, Maya was very happy because that was her brother Malin. Even though she couldn’t call him brother anymore... exactly because of that, it signified the change of status between her and him.

Maya would become Malin’s best support. Only in this way would she not fail that day’s encounter.

Watching the current situation of the battle, Lulu didn’t know how to begin her report. Sir Malin efficiently and cleanly defeated the Black Orc tide in front of her, and the young Night Watcher girl watched the knights flank the battlefield from the right, slicing through the Black Orcs’ formation like a hot knife through butter. Their attack was the final straw that broke the Black Orcs’ spirit.

After pondering for a moment, she kicked at the large Wood Elf Spirit at her feet, which looked up at its master.

"How the hell am I supposed to write this report?" her owner lamented.

Then she too raised her hands with great joy.

"Invincible in battle!"