Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 394 Storm (Part 8)

"A madman! How could there be such a madman!"

On the north bank of the Rose River, a dark-faced man, his eyes blazing with fury, smashed a window frame with a single punch.

Flames soared into the sky on both banks, and the attacking cavalry charged directly across the frozen riverbed, like a torrent of iron from hell bursting through the gates of flame.

Ice surfaces kept breaking under the weight of horses' hooves, screaming and cracking; cavalrymen kept suddenly collapsing and disappearing into the undulating waves.

However, the speed of the iron flow did not slow down at all; on the contrary, it became faster and faster.

Especially the sharpest point at the forefront.

It was a dashing figure, clad in gleaming silver armor; it was a tall, slender white horse, swift as a shooting star.

The thunderous hoofbeats, like a thousand-pound hammer, pounded into the hearts of the dark-faced man's eagle guards and the rioters.

"The Hundredth Team! Charge! Advance!"

Colonel Bern didn't care where the reinforcements came from. Sensing that the enemy's morale had been shattered, he resolutely threw himself into his only remaining 100-man veteran unit.

"Charge!" The centurion raised the banner, drew his sword, and led the charge: "Forward!"

The silent Monta soldiers once again surged toward the barricades like a tide.

Tigers were in front of them, and wolves were behind them. The rioters, who had just been enthusiastically tearing down doors and windows, moving furniture, and building the next barricade, were now completely at a loss and dumbfounded.

Suddenly, someone cried out, jumped off the barricade, threw down his weapon, and scrambled to escape into the city.

The others also seemed to realize what was happening. Some ran away with the stolen goods, while others rushed into houses hoping to steal something more.

Even those who didn't flee on the spot were filled with fear, their excitement and arrogance from when they repelled the garrison gone.

The dark-faced man's subordinates tried their best to maintain order, but once the rout started, it could no longer be contained.

The rioters who gathered on St. Peter's Street and St. John's Street were either lured by money, coerced, incited, or simply there to vent their lust.

They are like a swarm of wild bees and ants, acting on instinct rather than reason.

The dark-faced man still wanted to turn the tide, but he didn't have time to issue any orders because the cavalry had already rushed onto the battlefield at lightning speed.

The figure in silver armor and riding a white horse at the very front charged straight onto the rocky beach, sending up a series of sparks.

A riverbank nearly as tall as a person blocked his way, like an insurmountable wall.

The magnificent white horse let out a high-pitched neigh, curled up its four legs, then stretched them out suddenly, and leaped up, landing effortlessly on the riverbank.

Not only were the rioters behind the barricades stunned, but even Colonel Berne and Lieutenant Colonel Thomas were dumbfounded.

"This...I..." Lieutenant Colonel Thomas's eyes widened, his face flushed red, and he abruptly asked, "Whose horse is this? Can we borrow it to mate with?"

Colonel Bern was furious when he heard this. Not wanting to say anything to the lieutenant colonel in public, he simply ignored Thomas and turned to order the messenger: "Take the signal flag and contact this cavalry unit. Tell them to send someone who can speak."

The messenger received the order, took the green swallowtail flag, and rode his horse toward the barricades.

In contrast, the rioters near the barricades didn't have the luxury of "thinking about whether they could coordinate a fight."

Because after the silver-armored cavalryman leaped onto the riverbank, he easily jumped over the fences of the houses along the river and charged directly into the rear of the barricades.

This was like a tiger entering a flock of sheep. The silver-armored cavalry drove them away, slashing and cutting them down with unstoppable force. One man and one horse shattered the last vestige of order among the rioters.

Gunshots rang out one after another, but the white horse was swift and agile, leaping left and right without slowing down. The bullets either landed in empty air or grazed past people.

Another gunshot rang out, and the silver-armored cavalryman, Winters, caught a glimpse of a fleeting flash of light at the alley entrance.

He paused the continuous casting of the Deflection spell and fired two arrows in the general direction of the spear flames. Regardless of whether they hit, he restarted the Deflection spell, urging the long wind to continue its rampage.

With a deafening roar, Bern's 100-man veteran squad, which remained in service, blasted through the burning barricades and broke through the street defenses.

The cavalry that Winters had left behind also came ashore from the lower-lying riverbank and rushed to the battlefield.

Militiamen from the northern part of the city, clumsily brandishing their sabers and shouting "Surrender and you'll be spared death," blocked St. Paul Street from behind.

Caught between two attacks, the rioters, who had been so arrogant just moments before, fled in panic, revealing their true nature as a rabble. They desperately scrambled into alleyways and secret passages, and some even jumped into the river to escape to the other side.

In the midst of the chaos, four heavily armored cavalrymen recklessly broke through the long street and charged directly at the silver-armored white-horse cavalrymen.

“You’re late,” Winters said with a smile and a wave.

The lead heavy cavalryman, Father Kaman, angrily jumped off his saddle, grabbed Winters who was still greeting him, pulled him off his horse, and slammed him to the ground.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Kaman roared like thunder, "Are you out of your mind?!"

Seeing that someone was about to be beaten, the other three quickly pulled the priest away.

Charles helped Winters up: "Father Kaman meant, 'What if there are still wizards?' Sigh, I think the priest has a point. You should think about it more..."

The other two guards didn't speak, but their eyes also held a hint of reproach.

Winters conceded defeat and sincerely apologized: "I promise I won't do it again next time."

With his arms held by two guards, Kaman roared and launched a flying kick: "You think there'll be a next time?!"

……

North bank of the Rose River.

The dark-faced man watched helplessly as his forces deployed on the south bank were swept away like a whirlwind.

Meanwhile, an unspecified number of infantrymen were flanking from upstream towards the north bank.

The dark-faced man took out a round silver box, opened the lid and glanced inside. Reluctantly and helplessly, he ordered, "We've held off the legion long enough—retreat separately according to the original plan!"

Through a unique communication method, the message was quickly transmitted to all Eagle Guards.

Inside a house on the shore, a swordsman received orders to retreat and suddenly drew his sword to stab the one-armed man beside him.

The one-handed man is a notorious pickpocket boss in the old town of Steel Castle, with seven of his men stationed on the barricades on the south bank.

After killing the one-armed man, the swordsman searched the man's pockets for valuables, arranged everything to look like a fight over the spoils, threw the torch into a corner, and quickly left the house.

Similar incidents occurred elsewhere, and the swordsmen only left after eliminating the contact persons.

However, someone arrived faster than they expected.

The rapid, fast sound of hooves echoed through the valley. The dark-faced man stopped to listen and was astonished to find that the sound was coming from the east, not the west!

To the east? The garrison outside Steel Fortress doesn't have any cavalry!
But ears don't lie; a small troop of cavalry was galloping toward them from St. John's Street.

After a brief weighing of the pros and cons, the dark-faced man decisively abandoned his horse and fled into the courtyard of a resident by the roadside.

But the newcomer had already seen him, and he had also seen the newcomer: the warhorse with its long neck was breathing out hot air, and the slightly curved saber was flashing a dim blue light.

"Stop!" the newcomer shouted from afar. The dark-faced man rushed into the courtyard without turning his head, smashed open the door, and ran towards the backyard.

Once again, the rider behind him surprised him by not chasing the easier prey, but instead following him without hesitation.

……

South bank of the Rose River.

The rioters who were blocking the garrison from entering the city have been defeated, and the soldiers at the front are working hard to dismantle barricades and level burning houses to clear obstacles for the main force to march.

"Don't waste time!" Colonel Bern waved his hand and pointed to the Rose River, ordering, "Now that the scum on the bank is gone, let's go straight into the city via the river."

“Going directly across the river is probably not safe,” Lieutenant Colonel Thomas, being cautious by nature, suggested. “How about we send some engineers to dismantle some planks from the houses and lay them on the ice?”

The colonel glared and pointed at the shadowy cavalry ahead: "Those guys dare to walk on ice, what are we afraid of?"

The lieutenant colonel knew the colonel's temperament and knew he couldn't win the argument.

However, he also had his own way of dealing with it. When summoning the centurions to arrange the order of action, he also included dismantling houses and laying planks in the order—as a secondary instruction.

Just as the centurions finished assigning their tasks, the messenger sent to contact the unfamiliar cavalry returned, accompanied by two fully armored riders, one of whom was the "silver-armored white horseman" who had leaped ashore.

The silver-armored cavalryman galloped up to Colonel Bern, neither dismounting nor removing his helmet, but simply raising his hand in salute.

"Sir," he laughed loudly, "how are my cavalry?"

The Monta officers present were stunned.

Colonel Bern's brow furrowed tightly, then slowly relaxed.

The flag bearer behind the colonel couldn't hold back any longer and was about to reprimand this rude fellow when the colonel spoke first.

"Your cavalry?" the colonel asked with a smile.

Yes, it's mine.

Bern looked at the cavalry that was regrouping and saw several familiar faces. He pointed at the cavalry and said, "Aren't those all Steelburgers?"

"A saber is judged by its blade, and a cavalryman by his general." The silver-armored man replied with a smug look, "They follow me, so naturally they are my cavalry."

"Nonsense!" Colonel Bern burst into laughter, sizing up Changfeng and asking, "This one's much better than the one you rode last time. What? This is the one you're giving me?"

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas immediately perked up his ears.

“This one won’t do, this one is my trophy,” Winters said readily. “The rest of the horses are yours to choose from.”

The long wind howled irritably, seemingly dissatisfied with the term "spoils of war."

Charles, who had come with Winters, was also taken aback upon hearing this.

Charles tugged at the reins, clearing the view of the Monta people, pointed behind him, and mimicked Winters' tone, using his hoarse voice to feign boldness: "The rest of the horses! Take your pick!"

As they were talking, a militiaman rode up to Winters and shouted, "As per your orders, the squadron has been reorganized. 147 men were expected, 113 are present. Report complete! Please give the order, sir!"

“Select twenty men,” Winters ordered succinctly. “Take them back the way you came and gather the wounded who have fallen from their horses or gotten stuck in the ice.”

"Yes, Captain Bern!" The militiaman saluted and whipped his horse away.

When Winters turned around again, he was surprised to find that the eyes of the several Monta officers present had all changed.

"Uh... your son? How come I've never heard you mention him before? Don't you only have two daughters?" Lieutenant Colonel Thomas stared at the silver-armored cavalryman and couldn't help but ask the colonel, "Nephew?"

"Here it is!" Colonel Bern waved his hand and beckoned Winters with a smile: "Son! Come here and say hello to your Uncle Thomas. He needs your help with something."

Fortunately, Winters was wearing a helmet, so no one could see his expression at that moment.

All that high spirits and dashing demeanor vanished like smoke.

Colonel Bern urged him again before Winters stiffly dismounted, walked to the colonel and lieutenant colonel's horses, and saluted through gritted teeth: "I also have something I need your help with."

“No problem, no problem.” Lieutenant Colonel Thomas was still thinking about breeding and was eager for Bernie Jr. to make a request: “My matter is simple. Whatever your matter is, you can speak first.”

“Many of the North City militia who came with me to provide support have been trapped in the icy river.” Winters spoke quickly: “I have already sent people to look for them, but I’m afraid it’s not enough. I would also appreciate it if you could send some more people, and it would be best if you could set up a resettlement point now to receive the wounded.”

“No problem.” Lieutenant Colonel Thomas readily agreed and efficiently found a centurion and an engineer officer to assign tasks on the spot.

The roadblocks were cleared, and the roads were now open. The legion's hundred-man squads advanced into the city in an orderly fashion, following orders.

Colonel Bern glanced at the spire of the Elin Church illuminated by the firelight and asked Winters, "You came from the city. What's the situation there?"

"very bad."

Any suggestions?

Winters was particularly reluctant to speak, so he succinctly stated: "Suppress the rebellion, put out the fire."

Sparse hoofbeats came from the opposite bank. Three cavalrymen first made a difficult descent to the riverbank, then carefully crossed the icy river and galloped toward Winters' location.

"Halt!" a Monta soldier shouted. "State your identities!"

The three cavalrymen ignored him and rode straight toward Winters.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense. Without Colonel Bern giving the order, a squad of pikemen had already set out to intercept the riders.

By the firelight, Winters recognized the figures and horses of three cavalrymen, just as they recognized his figure and his horse.

Winters immediately spoke up: "Don't be nervous, they're my men."

The centurion looked at Colonel Bern.

The colonel nodded slightly.

After a few commands, the spearmen who had attacked retreated back into formation.

The three cavalrymen soon reached the riverbank and saw Winters and several Monta officers getting along very well. The lead rider, Pierre, was surprised but did not show it at all.

After quickly assessing the situation, Pierre decided to be cautious and get straight to the point, avoiding unnecessary pleasantries and titles.

"Don't say a word later," Pierre whispered to his two companions.

The two guards who followed nodded, seemingly puzzled.

Pierre took a deep breath, walked slowly to Winters and Colonel Bern, nodded and saluted, then pushed a tightly bound man off his horse: "A prisoner we caught on the other side, looking furtive."

Winters glanced at the man lying on the ground groaning; he had a face that was reddish-black.

[Trying hard to pay off debts! (Lacking confidence)]
[Regarding Winters' current tactics]

"Heavily armored spellcaster cavalry charging and disrupting the enemy's formation"—this unique combat method was a valuable lesson Winters learned after the Battle of Qingqiu.
[Because the battlefield was too chaotic, and the spellcasters' abilities were limited, there wasn't time to kill them one by one. Therefore, Winters only needed to act as a piercing point, destroying the enemy's organization; the rest could naturally be handled by his subordinates' sabers.]
[And, during the Battle of Qingqiu, Winters briefly entered the "realm" of "multitasking"—using multiple spells simultaneously. However, after the Battle of Qingqiu, no matter how much he practiced or tried, he could no longer reach the threshold of multitasking.]
[Therefore, Winters is currently still "only allowed to use one spell at a time".]
His daily training also focuses on "spell switching," that is, quickly and smoothly switching spells to minimize the time spent switching spells.
[Back in Thevordan, he used to practice "shooting a pebble and then shattering it in mid-air with a Disintegrate spell," which was a kind of "conversion" exercise.]
[Using spells while chatting or doing other things is also a way to practice the skill of "using conventional weapons while casting spells."]
[The above content was originally written after "Winters rushes through the crowd," but I felt it would disrupt the flow of the narrative; deleting it all would be a waste. So I've included it in the author's notes as supplementary explanation—it's just part of the setting anyway.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments.]
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(End of this chapter)