Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 302 Artillery
The gates fell, the drawbridge rose, and the Teldun soldiers who had stormed the city were trapped and doomed.

The crisp sound of steel blades clashing pierced through the sound of horses' hooves and carried far; flashes of light occasionally appeared within the city, presumably the red flames of gun barrels.

“There must be a hidden wall inside the city.” The man warming himself by the fire looked annoyed. “Where are the surrendered followers? Bring them here!”

Without saying a word, the quiver-wielder immediately led his men to find Red Dog.

The old interpreter wasn't particularly surprised. He sat steadily in his saddle, observing the battle, and said confidently, "It seems that the defenders of the city are not many, otherwise they wouldn't have resorted to such a risky tactic."

The first hundred men were ambushed, and the situation looked unfavorable to the Teltowns.

However, while a single bag of water can quench thirst, a pool of water can drown a person. The Telden people who stormed into the city were the fiercest and bravest armored guards. Trapped in a desperate situation, they would inevitably fight to the death.

To wipe out the vanguard in one fell swoop, the defenders would have to break a few teeth. With inside help and outside support, it would be a perfect opportunity to breach the city.

Luring the enemy into a trap is a risky move; a slight misstep could backfire.

In the old interpreter's memory, almost no garrison would voluntarily let the enemy into the city.

Even for a large fortress with multiple layers of walls, a commander with any sense of reason would not take such a risk, let alone a small town with only a simple, low earthen wall.

“You rebel officer named Stonemason, are you just incredibly audacious?” the old interpreter thought to himself, “or are you desperate?”

If Mason himself heard the old interpreter's question, he would probably just smile helplessly and not answer.

The subsequent changes in the battle infuriated the fire-breastmasters even more—the city walls were low and the moat was not deep, yet Teldun's troops stopped at the edge of the moat, hesitating to advance.

From the position of the person warming themselves by the fire, red lights flashed frequently inside the south gate, and the sounds of fighting mostly came from there, while gunfire was almost invisible along the city wall.

This means that the guards who broke into the city were still fighting with the defenders and had drawn away a large number of the defenders.

The other hundred cavalry units outside the city should take this opportunity to go straight to the city walls and join forces with the vanguard guards to launch a pincer attack and capture the city in one fell swoop.

However, each of the hundred-cavalry units stopped at the edge of the trench and refused to move any further.

To those warming themselves by the fire, the walls of Revodan were only a little over a person's height, and even if they were fully armored, climbing over them wouldn't be difficult.

However, the Telden men who were actually standing on the edge of the trench saw a completely different scene:
Ahead, the earthen wall and the trench are seamlessly integrated, with the wall and trench walls forming a continuous plane without any "corners" as dividing lines.

Standing on flat ground, the city wall is only a little over a person's height and is very inconspicuous.

But once you get down into the trench, the depth of the trench combined with the height of the wall makes the wall, which was originally just over a person tall, suddenly grow to be two and a half people tall—that's not something a human can easily climb over.

The fortifications of Ghevorden, designed by Richard Mason, consisted of walls 2 meters high and a moat 2.5 meters deep and 4 meters wide. The bottom of the moat was lined with a series of sharp wooden stakes, making it impossible to climb out once you went in.

The Teldun men outside the moat heard the gunfire and screams from inside the city. They had no siege equipment and could only fire arrows haphazardly toward the source of the sounds.

The armored guards who stormed into the city would climb over the walls and fall to the bottom of the moat, either dying instantly or being impaled by sharp wooden stakes.

The Teldenans circled the city walls, desperately searching for a place to climb.

In a moment of desperation, a young and reckless Telden man whipped his horse and charged toward the trench.

The warhorse, in pain, leaped high off the edge of the moat.

The rider leaped onto the horse's back mid-air and jumped precariously over the city wall. The poor warhorse, unable to escape the law of falling, crashed heavily into the ditch and was instantly impaled by a wooden stake.

The other Teltown residents were surprised and impressed, but no one followed suit.

Soon, the reckless young man who had jumped over the city wall climbed back up, covered in blood. He had just poked his upper body out when he was dragged back by an unseen hand. After a few cries, he fell silent.

A city wall served as a gateway between two worlds, and the Teldenans outside were completely unaware of what was happening inside.

They fired arrows, cursed, and shouted, but the city walls took it all in, responding only with silence.

Before long, the sounds of fighting inside the city walls gradually subsided, and the hearts of several red-feathered soldiers on the edge of the moat sank.

Soon, the dark muzzle of a gun peeked out from the top of the wall—Mason, having dealt with the enemies entering the city, was finally free to deal with the barbarians outside.

The city walls of the old days were built high, not only to make it more difficult for attackers, but also because height itself was a weapon.

The principle is simple, even a child understands it: the higher a heavy object is thrown from, the more destructive it is.

However, as gunpowder weapons were gradually applied in siege warfare, military engineers quickly realized that high city walls were not only vulnerable, but also hindered the effectiveness of firearms.

Gunpowder-propelled projectiles travel much faster and are more powerful than arrows, and can even penetrate the human body repeatedly.

Aside from the descent of the shell during flight, the more parallel the shell's trajectory is to the ground, the higher the artillery's lethality.

From the perspective of maximizing firepower, a lower city wall might be better.

Thus, the low wall, which integrated the moat, gradually moved to the center of the stage.

This design is not new; similar structures can be found in the outer fortifications of old-era city defense systems, such as secondary walls, small outer walls, and sheep and horse walls.

However, applying the integrated wall and moat structure to the main body of the city wall is a breakthrough that belongs to the new era.

This city wall is a "gift" prepared by Richard Mason using a new era design for the people of Teltown who are stuck in the old era.

The unwilling Teldun people tried to continue killing the defenders behind the wall with arrows, but two thunderclaps extinguished all their fighting spirit.

At the focal point of the attack and defense—outside the South Gate—two waves of air swept across the land, carrying rubble and iron filings.

The wounded warhorse neighed in terror and bolted; the wounded rider was thrown from his saddle, the charred holes in his clothes gradually soaked with blood. The musketeers, standing on the wooden platform with only half their heads peeking out from the wall, also opened fire.

"[Herd] Thunder!" Amidst the smoke and screams, someone cried out, "[Herd] Two-legged man has a thunderbolt!"

[Note: The Hed people called gunpowder weapons "thunder," muskets were generally called "small thunder," and cannons were called "large thunder," so throwing grenades was called "black thunder."]
The distance was so close that the Telden men, who were stationed near the trench, were almost hit twice by the defenders, who were practically right in the head.

No one understands the destructive power of artillery better than the people of Bitden; they have personally tasted the blood and gore of the Great Wilderness campaign.

With cannons, walls, and steadfast defenders, this city, while not impregnable, was certainly not a sitting duck for the Teldun people to take at will.

Seeing that the situation was hopeless, the other Red Feather gritted his teeth and ordered a retreat.

As the horns sounded, the Telden men who were attacking the south gate dragged their corpses and wounded away, while the remaining Telden men who were feigning an attack also quickly dispersed upon hearing the horns.

The new city of Gervodan fell into a long silence, until the sound of the barbarian hooves gradually faded into the distance.

"Did we win?" a militiaman asked timidly.

“We won!” Mason patted his third-generation wooden cannon affectionately.

In an instant, the new city erupted in cheers, and the survivors cried and shouted.

For the vast majority of militiamen who were laborers the day before, they did almost nothing, but that did not diminish their joy and happiness.

A feverish mood swept across the St. George River, and the anxious citizens of the old town, awaiting news, were also infected.

In the old town on the north bank, people knocked on their doors and windows, and cheers drifted across the river back to the south of the city.

The faithful waiting at the Gevordan Cathedral prayed in unison, praising the Savior.

Meanwhile, Ghevordan's true savior was still carefully inspecting his cannons.

The first-generation wooden cannon was made of logs wrapped with iron pipes, and it would be scrapped after only a few uses.

The second-generation wooden cannon went a step further, consisting of a hollow wooden stake that could be used only once.
The third-generation wooden cannon was a true artillery piece, and should no longer be called a "wooden cannon".

With the full support of the forging town, the third-generation wooden cannon was forged by wrapping the cannon body with wrought iron, a process similar to forging a gun barrel.

The prototype barrel was then pre-tightened by wrapping it with iron hoops and leather straps, and finally hammered into the core of a fresh, resilient log to further reduce the possibility of barrel explosion.

Although the three-layered structure of wrought iron, leather, and wood made the cannons cumbersome, it was not a major problem for use in siege warfare.

“Not bad.” After a careful inspection, Mason did not find any cracks or leaks.

So he ordered his men to soak the cannon barrel in grease to cool it down—the three-layered structure made heat dissipation very poor.

Looking at his "beautiful daughters," the artillery captain thought with a touch of pride, "I'm a genius."

Meanwhile, on the north bank of the St. George River, Anna, along with Catherine and Mrs. Mitchell, arrived at the Gevordan Cathedral.

Catherine held Anna's hand tightly, as if afraid that if she let go, her sister would disappear.

Anna felt the same way; a little warmth from Catherine's palm reminded her that she still had her sister.

The Navarre sisters had experienced war before, but they had never stood so close together.

Just gazing across the riverbank, the two women's hearts were clenched with anxiety. Occasionally, even some unpleasant possibilities would cross their minds.

But they did not, and could not, show any concern.

Because in the eyes of others, one of them is Madame Montagne and the other is Madame Montagne's sister, any negative emotions they have will be interpreted, amplified, and then spread throughout this small city.

In this respect, Catherine did a better job than Scarlett O'Hara, and even better than Anna.

Scarlett rarely concealed her emotions; her worry for her father, brother, and Winters was almost written on her face. In her view, frankly expressing emotions did not equate to weakness.

Catherine quickly adapted to the burden. While Anna was busy assisting Mason in managing the women and children's camp, it was Catherine who accompanied Mrs. Mitchell to meet with the women of Ghevorden, smilingly instilling confidence in them and then spreading that confidence to a wider audience.

Because Anna disliked these kinds of occasions, the elder Navarre easily grew tired of salons, tea parties, compliments, and polite smiles—the younger Navarre, on the contrary.

In a sense, they each inherited half of their mother's traits.

Mrs. Mitchell, along with Anna and Catherine, followed the crowd all the way to the church altar.

Anna helped Mrs. Mitchell carefully place the candles on the altar and prayed silently.

In this small city on the edge of the world, Mrs. Mitchell sheltered Anna and Catherine like a mother.

“What are you praying for?” Catherine asked.

Mrs. Mitchell looked at the two children with pity: "I pray... you will never have to be strong."

……

While Teldun's first siege was thwarted, Winters' first counterattack had already begun.

He watched as Samukin's fleet sailed away from Niuti Valley and drifted downstream.

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(End of this chapter)