Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 573 Siege (Twenty-Five)

[trench]
Smoke filled the trenches, making it impossible for people to open their eyes.

Tamas covered his mouth and nose with a damp cloth, but with each breath, he still felt a burning sensation.

The enemy launched an attack from multiple directions simultaneously, with gunfire and the piercing sound of metal coming from both the front and the back.

The demonic fire cleaved the serpentine trench into several sections, and battles raged within each section of the serpent's "body," with each side killing the other for a mere foot or inch of distance.

Tamas led Peter Bunier and his men southward.

The trenches dug by the United Statesmen were very narrow, as if they were deliberately designed to restrict one's arm movement. Two people passing each other had to squeeze sideways to pass each other, so Tamas himself blocked the passage completely.

In his left hand he held a shield made from readily available materials, consisting of wooden planks and a breastplate stripped from an ammunition barrel.

That's right, the provincialists are armored.

When the soldiers of the company swam across, most of them only carried their personal weapons.

In trenches where even turning around is difficult, the advantage of being "wrapped in iron" is self-evident.

The thought of this made Tamas feel as if he were being stabbed in the heart.

This mental anguish tormented him more intensely than the physical pain.

While rushing across the beach, his left foot stepped on something and was cut open, but he was completely unaware of it.

He didn't notice until Peter Bunier exclaimed in surprise.

But what are these injuries compared to the bloodshed and sacrifice of his men, his comrades who entrusted their lives to him and trusted him without reservation?
So he berated Peter Bunier, who wanted him to stay behind, but seeing the company commander's aggrieved expression, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Fortunately, these superfluous emotions only occupied his mind briefly. Once he was engaged in battle, he immediately put all distractions aside and focused on leading his men to clear the trenches.

Tamas, carrying a simple shield and a short sword, walked at the head of the squad.

Peter Bunier, carrying a bundle full of grenades, followed a step behind him.

Behind them were the other soldiers.

No one dared to look up; they bent over as much as possible, almost to the point of squatting.

Because they were being fired at from both sides, there was no safe "reverse slope" in the trench. Lead balls whizzed overhead, some falling directly into the trench and hitting the walls, splashing up clouds of dirt.

To the north, the cannons of the United Provinces were also firing, but it was unclear where they were hitting.

Everyone could only lower their heads and leave everything to luck.

The trenches dug by the provincial men had a bend every twenty steps or so.

Depending on the terrain, an additional space may be created on the inside or outside of the corner for storing supplies or stationing troops for defense.

Tamas knew the provincial officials' plan because the centurion had taught him these things.

Therefore, during the process of moving forward, he would be extremely careful every time he approached the corner at the end of the passage.

When he was just a step away from the corner, Tamas plunged his dagger into the wall of the passage and asked in a low voice, "[Palatu dialect] Is anyone there?"

No one answered from the alcove at the corner.

Without turning his head, Tamas reached out his hand to the company commander behind him.

Peter Bunier, standing behind him, immediately placed a heavy, cold, egg-shaped lump of iron in his hand.

Then, Tamas heard the sound of a flint striking flint.

Immediately afterwards, Peter Bunier patted him on the back.

Without hesitation, Tamas shoved the lump of iron in his hand into the alcove at the corner.

The two worked together seamlessly, requiring no extra words.

Almost at the same moment Tamas withdrew his hand, the metal lump exploded violently in the alcove.

The blast of air surged out of the concave chamber, hit the corner of the passageway, and then cascaded to both sides.

The alchemical fumes that had settled in the trench were briefly pushed aside, but the even more suffocating smoke and dust instantly filled the trench again.

Tamas pulled a dagger from the wall and rushed into the alcove, where he found only the mangled body of a provincial soldier.

Tamas didn't know whether the other man was killed before being blown to pieces, or blown to pieces before dying. None of that mattered. What mattered was that the other man had intended to kill him and his men, and now that he was dead, he could no longer harm his people.

Tamas left a few warriors to guard the alcove and continued his advance.

Outside the next alcove, as he asked a question in the Paratist dialect, a faint, indistinct voice came from within:

"battalion commander?"

Tamas rushed into the alcove and saw a soldier leaning against the mud wall of the trench, clutching his stomach, sitting slumped on the ground.

"Gosha!" Tamas called out the warrior's name directly, then squatted down next to the warrior.

Gosha was only fifteen years old and had been fighting in Tamas's squad before the Battle of Bloodsludge. His real name was Igor, but everyone loved the little boy and called him by his nickname.

However, Gosha's face was lifeless at this moment. He tilted his head back and stared intently at Tamas. His lips, which were covered with only a few hairs, moved weakly and were completely bloodless.

In Tamas's eyes, Gosha looked much thinner all of a sudden, and his already slender face became even more angular.

As he got closer, he realized that Gosha's stomach had been cut open with a huge gash, and his intestines had slipped out from between Gosha's palms and fallen to the ground.

Peter Bunier, who followed Tamas into the alcove, began to sob softly.

“I thought… I… misheard…” Gosha didn’t shed a single tear; he was still trying to explain to Tamas, “I… I wanted to put it back… but… but I couldn’t put it in…”

“It’s alright now,” Tamas said, feeling as if he had been pierced by a thousand arrows. “I’m here.”

“This is…this is wonderful…I…I thought…I was going to die here all alone…” Gosha’s throat was panting. “The United Provinces…the United Provinces…went south…so many…so many people…”

Tamas squeezed Gosha's hand. He couldn't deceive Gosha with gentle lies, nor could he face the child's death.

“I’m sorry,” Tamas said softly, “Gosha.”

Gosha could no longer speak; with his last strength, he shook his head.

Tamas handed Gosha over to his other men, picked up his shield, and walked out of the alcove without looking back.

An overwhelming rage surged within him, tearing at his chest and scorching his internal organs.

All other thoughts vanished; he only wanted to hurt the people of the United Provinces in the most cruel way, to kill them, to tear them into pieces... No, even if he tore all the people of the United Provinces on the island to pieces, it would not quell his hatred.

The next section of the trench was deserted.

In the next trench, there were only three bodies: two from the United Provinces and one of Tamas's men.

In the next trench, two American soldiers remained in a hut. Hearing the sound of a flint and steel, they tried to rush out, but Peter Bunier had left the fuse extremely short, so the horsetail grenade exploded halfway, severing the legs of the two American soldiers.

Tamas killed two soldiers from the United Provinces and continued his sweep southwards.

The further we went, the clearer the shouts of battle became, but it remained quiet behind us.

Tamas gradually realized that the United Provinces' real main attack was not on the landing site, but on the fortifications at the southern tip of Margit Island.

Having realized this, Tamas led his men on a rapid southward advance.

After entering the open area at the southern end of Margit Island, the trench is no longer a straight line, but splits into three passages.

Not far away, on the flat riverbank, corresponding to the bishop's fort at the northernmost tip of the island, there is a small fortification, which is the core fortification of the United Provinces' position at the southernmost tip of the island.

At a small fortified area, the two sides are engaged in battle.

Although the smoke was thick, Tamas couldn't see who was attacking and who was defending.

However, after realizing the true intentions of the United Provinces, he was confident in making a judgment—the United Provinces were attacking, and the soldiers who landed on the island were defending. The United Provinces had just walked the same route he had taken, which is why he only found his dying or fallen subordinates along the way, because the soldiers who could still move had retreated to the small fortifications at the southernmost point.

Gunfire erupted from the high ground as the United Provinces' arquebusiers unleashed a barrage of fire on Tamas's men inside the fortified position.

Flames lit up the riverbank as United Provinces' commando teams hurled molten gold into small fortifications.

Tamas had a strong urge to charge forward and die with the United Provinces.

But he still had more than twenty soldiers with him, and he couldn't bring them to their deaths as well.

After weighing the pros and cons, Tamas did not immediately order an attack.

"Bring out all the horsetail grenades," Tamas ordered the company commander, pursing his lips and looking at the two sides fighting on the riverbank. "This time, the fuses must be long."

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