Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 555 Siege (Part 7)

Margit Island
[Temporary ferry crossing]
The United Provinces launched their attack under the cover of the morning fog.

The Paratists predicted this accurately.

The United Provinces' first punch wasn't aimed at Bishop's Castle, but rather at the "rebel" ferry crossing.

The Paratists also made this judgment.

So when the figures of the United Provinces appeared in the fog, the musketeers of the White Mountain County Infantry Regiment, who were already in position, did not rush to fire, but patiently waited for orders.

Unlike the Paratul who charged into battle amidst thunderous battle cries, the United Provinces infantry, like the Monta infantry, regarded silence and discipline as the cornerstone of victory, and never shouted or yelled on the battlefield, whether advancing or retreating.

Witnessing the United Provinces advance rapidly and silently, the White Mountain County veterans behind the breastwork immediately realized that the group of mud-covered men who came this morning were definitely not the greenhorns from last night.

In the silence, the distance between them grew shorter and shorter.

“Any closer would be too close,” the newly promoted sergeant Bocho nervously whispered, “Lieutenant.”

Alani Arthur gently shook his head.

Wait, keep waiting.

Sweat beaded on Bocho's forehead, slid down his chin, and shattered against the breastwork.

It wasn't until the outlines of the United Provinces men were clearly visible, and Bocho could even see the dark red embers of the fire ropes wrapped around their wrists, that the lieutenant's roar exploded in Bocho's ears.

"Fire!"

The snare drum beat rapidly, and the flag used in the Battle of Howling Valley was unfurled in the center of the position.

Bocho cursed as he pressed the launch lever, unleashing a precise volley with his comrades.

The lead bullets traced paths through the thick fog, like invisible spears being hurled at the enemy's body.

Alani saw the vanguard at the very front of the United Provinces' skirmish line suddenly collapse without warning.

Within his field of vision, many enemies froze, "pinned" to the spot, but they still made no noise.

Until a sharp whistle rang out from behind the wall of fog.

The United Provincial Government's retaliation came immediately—a barrage of lead bullets was thrown at the makeshift ferry crossing, and the wooden fence around it crackled and popped.

Some lead pellets slipped through the gaps in the fence and flew toward the breastwork behind it, creating ripples of dust.

Alani was caught off guard and sand got into his eyes, blurring his vision. He slumped back to the ground, leaning against the breastwork, cursing and shouting the orderly's name.

Sergeant Bocho was startled and quickly picked up the lieutenant. He was relieved to find that the lieutenant had only gotten something in his eyes.

He handed the lieutenant to the orderly, retrieved the matchlock gun, roared as he loaded it, and continued to fire hate pellets at the United Provinces.

The orderly hurriedly untied his canteen and helped the lieutenant wash his eyes.

The inability to see was driving Alani to the brink of madness.

But at the same time, he was also very fortunate that he had rushed to repair the fence around the temporary ferry last night; otherwise, what would be flying everywhere now would not be lead and wood, but blood and flesh.

However, the next second, the lieutenant heard a crisp cracking sound.

Alani, whose vision had been restored, turned to look at Bocho, who had just been fiercely cursing the provincial officials. Bocho's skull had been ripped off. He lay on the ground, his head tilted back unnaturally, his lifeless eyes wide open, staring blankly at the sky.

Alani was only stunned for a moment before Pocho's body was dragged away, his yogurt-like brain matter spilling all over the ground, and another musketeer took his place.

Alani stared at the skull fragments on the ground for half a second, then pushed aside the orderly and picked up Pocho's matchlock musket.

"Keep firing!" Allani roared, pressing the detonator. "Kill them all!"

As both sides continued firing, the smoke further obscured the battlefield's visibility.

The soldiers of Baishan County inside the temporary ferry crossing could barely see what was happening outside the fence and could only fire blindly.

Under the cover of smoke and fog, the provincial engineers approached the front of the fence.

A chilling thud followed, as if the United Provinces were not chopping wood with axes, but hacking at the body of the position.

"Protect the fence!" Alani drew his sword and shouted anxiously.

The battle for the temporary crossing point immediately entered its most brutal phase of close combat.

The Paratites used every weapon at their disposal to kill the United Provinces on the other side of the fence at any cost.

People in the United Provinces are doing the same thing.

A White Mountain County soldier had just stabbed a provincial man to death when he was brought down by a musket at close range.

The engineers of the United Provinces were also constantly being shot at close range by the Paratites.

Shouts of battle and the clanging of gunfire could be heard from the distant bishop's castle. According to the original plan, the musketeers on the bishop's castle were supposed to attack the flanks of the provincialists when they attacked the ferry crossing.

However, the fog was so thick that, although the distance between the bishop's castle and the ferry crossing was less than two hundred meters, they could not see each other at all.

Moreover, judging from the sounds, fighting is also taking place in Bishop's Castle.

The isolated and helpless ferry troops were forced to use their trump card weapon in the first round – iron-cased grenades.

These weapons, supplied by the Iron Peak County Arsenal, proved their power in River Valley Village.

The soldiers of Baishan County, who had accumulated a wealth of combat experience, were even more adept at using this weapon than the people of Tiefeng County.

They cut the grenade fuses to be as short as a finger, giving the enemy no chance to extinguish the flames. Some highly skilled and daring grenadiers could even make the grenades explode in mid-air.

Faced with the United Provinces' fierce offensive, Alani Arthur and his grenadiers hurled iron grenades over the fence like stones.

Deafening explosions rang out one after another, and the engineers of the United Provinces were blown to pieces.

The air currents surged, sending dismembered limbs and dirt flying into the sky. The mist was constantly pushed aside, and fresh, scorching smoke kept bursting forth.

Finally, the United Provinces could no longer withstand the heavy casualties and retreated from around the fence.

From within the mist, the painful groans of the dying could be heard.

"So you're starting to yell too?" Alani's eyes were bloodshot and tears streamed down his face as he shouted at the lingering smoke of battle, "Federalists?!"

His response was a dozen or so crystal-clear glass jars.

Each jar was filled with a pure, colorless liquid, enveloped in flames. They emerged from the mist, tracing elegant arcs through the air before landing inside the fence.

"Get out of the way!" Allani yanked aside his subordinate, who was gasping for breath and clutching his knees, and shouted hoarsely, "Liquid fire!!!"

Before he could finish speaking, a liquid fireball landed on the head of a Baishan County soldier who was still recovering from the previous battle.

With a crisp cracking sound, the soldier who was directly hit by the liquid fire instantly turned into a human torch.

The soldier, engulfed in flames, rolled wildly on the ground, his throat emitting screams that sent chills down the spines of everyone present.

His comrades tried to help him put out the fire, but they couldn't extinguish it and their own clothes caught fire instead.

The liquid fire that falls elsewhere, just as its name suggests, flows in all directions like a liquid.

The open space behind the fence was quickly engulfed in flames, leaving no place to even step.

The scorching flames were so intense that no one dared to approach. The soldiers of White Mountain County fled the fire as if they were escaping from a demon. Alani rushed to the soldiers engulfed in liquid fire, quickly took off his outer garment, and was about to cover the soldiers with it when he was pulled away by a strong force by his belt.

"Watch out! Lieutenant!" The orderly's voice was trembling with urgency. "They're here again!"

More than a dozen cans flew out of the mist and shattered near the fence, instantly turning the already dilapidated south fence into a wall of fire.

However, the United Provinces' liquid fire hadn't run out yet when they launched another round of hurling. This time, the landing point looked farther than the previous two, heading straight for the interior of the position.

Alani realized something was wrong and roared frantically, "Move the grenades away!"

But it was too late; a liquid propellant had already landed in the wooden crate containing the grenades.

After what felt like an eternity, a few breaths later, dazzling flames burst forth inside the ferry crossing.

Empty grenade boxes were blown away, full grenade boxes were blown to pieces, and heavy grenades were pushed in all directions by the shock wave. Some did not explode, while others were ignited by the flames.

In Lieutenant Alan's desperate gaze, the deadly red light burst forth once more.

……

Fifty meters southeast of the temporary ferry crossing, there is a completed temporary gun emplacement.

The fort was built with triangular wooden frames filled with earth; it was rudimentary but sufficient to withstand musket fire.

The fort was about 250 meters from the bishop's castle, which was just within the effective range of the cannons, even though the smoothbore guns were not very accurate.

The fort was only fifty meters away from the "rebels'" temporary crossing.

Setting up cannons at such a short distance is practically like pointing the cannons at the rebels' heads.

Lieutenant Colonel William Lordwick lowered his eyes and tilted his head to listen, confirming that the continuous explosions were coming from the enemy's position.

"What's going on?" Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk asked, frowning.

Lieutenant Colonel Montecoli, who was directing the artillery into position, turned his head, thought for a moment, and guessed uncertainly, "Could it be that the ammunition wagon exploded? If that's the case, we're lucky."

“I never rely on luck,” Lordwick said coldly, “Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I used to be as confident as you, Lieutenant Colonel,” Montecoccoli squinted, deliberately drawing out the word “Lieutenant Colonel,” “but now I believe that good luck is the greatest skill.”

"Get the cannons ready as soon as possible," Lordwijk said, not bothering with Cornelius's men. "Let me see if you 'elites' who stayed on to teach at the university have any other skills besides good luck."

“Don’t worry,” Montecoli retorted sharply. “You’ve done your job, and I’ll do mine. Have your men withdraw. Once the fog clears, we’ll start bombarding the rebel positions.”

The two men stared at each other for a long time, like two bulls butting heads. The officers around them were worried that the two officers' foreheads would collide at any moment, but they dared not say a word.

In the end, it was Lieutenant Colonel Lordwick who nodded first, summoned a messenger, and issued the order to regroup.

The fort was quiet for a brief moment.

It wasn't until Lieutenant Colonel Lordwick remarked, "Actually, that kid on the other side is pretty good. He correctly judged our main attack direction and also guessed the timing of our attack."

"Because they know us as well as we know them."

"Understanding is understanding, and making a decision is making a decision. You artillerymen always like to confuse these two things."

How can you make a decision if you don't understand?

Lieutenant Colonel Lordwick didn't want to argue, so there was another silence.

“Given time,” the infantry lieutenant colonel began, “that kid on the other side might be more capable than us.”

“Yes,” the artillery lieutenant colonel sighed, “but unfortunately, he won’t have that chance.”

……

On the west bank of the Ten Arrows River, Woods Frank stood on the shore, his eyes fixed on the direction of Margit Island.

The fog was so thick that you couldn't see anything at all.

The intense gunfire and explosions that had just occurred have now ceased.

Woods kept biting his nails, and his thumb nail was so bitten that it was retracted into the flesh, but he was completely unaware of it.

"Should we send reinforcements to the island?"

This problem is driving him crazy.

This time, however, someone made the decision for him.

The White Mountain County troops on Margit Island proactively cut the ropes for crossing the river.

……

The fog dissipated, and the sky cleared.

William Lordwick and Raymond Montecouccoli were surprised to find that the rebels had withdrawn from the ferry crossing and retreated entirely to Bishop's Castle.

The ferry crossing position has become an empty shell, leaving only charred traces of the explosion.

And on the beach, there were whirlpools formed by filth and blood.

……

[The camp of the Baishan County Infantry Regiment]
“That’s how it is,” Woods Frank said, his face pale. “The United Provinces cut off our connection with Bishop’s Castle. I led Arthur and his men into this trap…”

Woods stood up, his nose twitching slightly. He fought back tears and bowed deeply. "It's my fault... I'm so grateful that you came to take over."

Inside the tent, Richard Mason, who had been traveling for a day and a night, felt completely lost.

Because he was only there to deliver supplies.

"No! Please don't!" Mason jumped off the chair as if he had stepped on a mousetrap. "I'm not here to compete with you for command of the siege of Kingsburg."

"Do you really think that command of this siege is something worth fighting for?" Woods retorted.

Mason was on the verge of tears: "So why did you push it onto me?"

“Because you are the most suitable person,” Woods said firmly.

“I…I’m not,” Mason was utterly speechless. “Winters is the most suitable person. I…I don’t have his decisiveness.”

"Where is Major Montagne?" Woods asked bluntly.

“Uh,” Mason said, deflated. “He went to the new reclamation area.”

“So you are the most suitable person,” Woods said, as if he were a drowning man grasping at a straw, refusing to give up. “Moreover, you are the highest-ranking officer from the artillery department in the new army, so you should be in command.”

Mason was truly stumped, because he was indeed the highest-ranking artillery officer in the new army—although he was only a major.

The key point is that he noticed Woods Frank's mental state was very bad, and he even showed signs of a breakdown.

Mason bit his lip, grabbed his hat, and casually nudged his junior's shoulder. "Let's go—let's check out the terrain first."

Woods Frank seemed to have all his strength drained away, and with tears in his eyes, he bowed to his senior.

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