I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 430 Fear
Meanwhile, in an open area relatively far back in the military camp, adjacent to the supply area, Lydia was hurriedly running with a small group of priests of the goddess of agriculture.

They wore leather armor and dark cloaks for ease of movement, with sharp longswords or maces hanging at their waists, and heavy backpacks on their backs containing bandages, herbs, and simple medical instruments.

Lydia herself gripped an oak scepter with an iron-inlaid head tightly in her right hand and held a round shield in her left, clearly ready to engage in battle.

The enemy attack alarm, like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, shattered the tranquility of the military camp's logistics area, where most of the people gathered were non-combatants.

Some of them were members of the church of the Earth Mother Goddess and the Goddess of Agriculture, while others were grooms, carpenters, and blacksmiths, who had never experienced war.

Gunfire erupted continuously from the front lines in the direction of the swamp, and flares soaring into the sky turned half the sky white. This naturally frightened the people gathered in the supply area, who worried that the snake people might appear there.

Voices, footsteps, and the clanging of weapons mingled together, creating an atmosphere of tension and panic. Some even fantasized that escaping the military camp would allow them to avoid the snake-men's attacks... Such foolish minds never considered the possibility of their side winning the battle cleanly and decisively.

As Lydia led her people through the area, she was naturally affected, and many followers of the goddess of agriculture cried out to her and reached out for help.

Lydia hesitated for a moment, but after she clearly heard what the people seeking help were saying, her attitude changed completely... They were all calling on Lydia to take them away from here.

"Stay here!"

Lydia's voice was clear and strong, cutting through the noise.

"I am on my way to the front lines, and you are going to the front lines too. The soldiers need help, and the goddess and the king will despise deserters!"

After saying that, Lydia turned and left without looking back, leading the priests who were following her.

Their target was the defensive line in the direction of the swamp, the area with the most intense gunfire and the fiercest fighting.

Lydia judged that this would be the place with the most wounded and the greatest pressure on the defensive line, and it might also be the place where priests with combat capabilities would be needed to plug the gap in times of crisis.

Lydia herself, as well as the priests here, have all undergone professional combat training. Combined with their equipment and relatively low-cost divine magic, they are able to unleash combat power comparable to that of foot knights when they are lightly armed.

As they passed through a chaotic camp and gradually approached the forward position, which resembled a boiling volcano, the smell of gunpowder, blood, and the stench of decay unique to the swamp gradually became strong and pungent.

The deafening roar of gunfire was like countless giant drums pounding wildly in my ears, and the ground beneath my feet trembled.

"what……"

A young battle priest tripped over the slippery mud and a broken rope, letting out a cry of surprise.

Lydia reached out to support him, but her gaze was involuntarily drawn to the area in front of her that was shrouded in a mixture of blinding white light and orange flames.

Several flares were slowly falling, illuminating the core area of ​​the battlefield in a ghastly white light. Beneath this white curtain of light, a continuous stream of "fireworks" bloomed, like red lotuses from hell.
She stopped abruptly, and the squad behind her also came to a halt.

Everyone was breathless at the sight before them.

They stood on the edge of a slightly elevated earthen slope, which gave them a clear view of the forward defensive zone consisting of chevaux-de-frise, barbed wire, and makeshift breastworks.

At that moment, a "death fireworks show" that they had never imagined was unfolding there, so magnificent it was terrifying.

As Lydia watched, the serpent-men surged towards the military camp, getting incredibly close to the outermost barricade.

Behind the long breastwork, it was as if countless fuses had been ignited in an instant.

Every time an officer waved his command flag or roared, the entire battle line erupted in a deafening roar.

Hundreds and thousands of flintlock muskets simultaneously spewed out scorching flames, not sporadic sparks, but like countless orange-red venomous snakes raising their heads and flicking their tongues in an instant, forming a continuous mass.

The dense gunfire, like a rolling wall of flames, repeatedly lit up, extinguished, and lit up again against the backdrop of rising smoke, forming a destructive band of light composed of pure steel and gunpowder that was constantly advancing forward.

Each time the wall of light lit up, it was accompanied by a sudden halt, twisting, and exploding of the serpent-men's charging wave in front. The shrill whistling of lead bullets tearing through the air and the muffled sound of flesh being pierced could be clearly heard even from this distance.

Lydia and the priests were stunned. They knew that their kingdom's soldiers were equipped with a high density of firearms, but they had never imagined that so many flintlock muskets firing would be so spectacular and destructive.

After staring blankly for about ten minutes, Lydia snapped out of her shock and realized that the snake people were approaching the military camp at an accelerated pace, and the musketeers' volleys could not stop them.

Next up should be melee combat.

Lydia thought to herself.

Then, at the very front of the defensive line, near those menacing barricades, a more muffled yet destructive roar resounded.

Those were crouching tiger cannons deployed in low positions, their muzzles spewing fireballs that were thicker and brighter than those of flintlock muskets.

Accompanied by thick white smoke, the shrapnel swept out like a deadly rain of iron, accompanied by a piercing whistle.

Lydia could observe from afar that the snake-men at the forefront, upon contact with the fan-shaped area of ​​death, were as if they had been slashed by an invisible, gigantic scythe, instantly collapsing in large numbers, their limbs shattered, and mud and blood mist rising into the air.

The scene was like a black tide crashing into an invisible reef, instantly shattering into pieces.

A little further behind the Tiger Crouching Gun, a heavier and more powerful cannon roar followed, the thunderous roar of field guns deployed on a slightly higher earthen platform.

While solid iron cannonballs don't have the wide kill radius of tiger crouching cannon shot, their linear attack makes them quite efficient at causing deaths when the snakemen are in dense swarms.

Lydia only watched for a short while before her back was completely soaked with sweat.

Beneath this magnificent symphony of fire, steel, and death lies an even more chilling silent killing field.

The barricades, caltrops, and especially the specially made snake-belly barbed wire wrapped with sharp barbed blades, gleamed with a sinister cold light under the flares.

Lydia watched as countless strong snake-man warriors, with unstoppable ferocity, crashed into the barricades, their abdomens pierced by sharp wooden stakes, writhing in agony.

As more snake-men attempted to cross the obstacles, their massive bellies inevitably crushed the barbed wire and caltrops, their sharp barbs relentlessly hooking into the gaps between their scales and piercing deep into their flesh.

The more they struggled forward, the tighter the barbed wire entangled them, and the deeper the barbs tore. The excruciating pain caused them to let out shrill, inhuman screams, and their bodies twisted and rolled wildly, becoming huge obstacles for those who followed them.

That area became a living hell composed of pain, despair, and futile struggle.

Meanwhile, the human soldiers behind the breastwork calmly and efficiently shot down these trapped, immobile targets one by one!

"This...this is..."

A young battle priest, his face ashen and his voice trembling, could barely hold onto his mace. He had never witnessed such an efficient, ruthless, and... magnificent slaughter.

This is completely different from what they experienced, which relied on divine magic, courage, and close combat with swords.

Lydia also felt a chill that came from the depths of her soul.

Her fingers gripped the oak staff so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The Church of the Goddess of Agriculture also participated in wars against evil, but those battles were filled with the brilliance of faith, individual bravery, and the miracles of divine magic.

The scene before us... is an industrial complex composed of cold steel, precise collaboration, and devastating firepower!
She finally understood.

Now I understand why the army of the Kingdom of Bagnia was able to win many battles in its foreign campaigns, striking fear into the hearts of its enemies.

This also explains one of the reasons why the Church of Mother Earth is so submissive and respectful to His Majesty Chris.

This is by no means solely due to the bravery of the soldiers or the strategy of the generals.

The multi-layered, three-dimensional, and continuous "fireworks show" before our eyes... This dense network of fire, composed of the salvo of flintlock muskets, the hail of bullets from tiger-squat cannons, the solid hammer of field guns, and the insidious and deadly barbed wire traps, is their true and unparalleled core of power!
It ruthlessly harvests lives, with breathtaking efficiency and a lavish spectacle akin to a hellish celebration.

Faced with this infernal scene of smoke, fire, blood, and screams, individual bravery seems so insignificant.

Lydia felt dizzy. If it weren't the snake people trapped in purgatory, but the followers of the goddess of agriculture, how many lives could the herbs she brought save in the face of this torrent of steel and fire?

"High Priest?"

The priest beside her looked at her pale face and called out to her with concern.

Lydia took a deep breath of the air filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, forcibly suppressing the shock and a sense of powerlessness in her heart, and a determined light rekindled in her emerald green eyes.

"Let's go!" Her voice was slightly hoarse, yet exceptionally clear.

"Go behind the soldiers. No matter how strong the firepower on the front line is, there will always be wounded soldiers, and there will always be places where the goddess's grace is needed. Our duty is there!"

She no longer looked at the devastating, magnificent fireworks, but resolutely strode forward, leading her squad of battle priests, charging towards the front lines where a symphony of death was unfolding, amidst the deafening roar of artillery fire and the pervasive smoke.

……

The snake-men were like the receding tide of black seawater, which came fiercely and retreated abruptly.

The suffocating roars and the rustling of scales rubbing together, after about an hour of frenzied assault, gradually weakened and dissipated as if choked by an invisible giant hand, eventually leaving only a few scattered, unwilling cries that were quickly swallowed up by the deeper darkness of the swamp.

They left behind countless corpses, like wreckage left on the mudflats after a storm, covering every inch of land from the outer edge of the camp to the edge of the swamp.

The flares were no longer being fired; only a few braziers lit for clearing the battlefield and for vigilance flickered with a dim yellow light in the breeze, barely outlining the contours of this bloody slaughterhouse.

The air was thick with a pungent, unpleasant mixture of smells: the acrid smell of gunpowder, the heavy stench of blood, the putrid odor of swamp, the putrid smell of ruptured entrails, and the charred smell of burning flesh...

The smell seemed to have gained weight, pressing heavily on the chests of everyone who stepped into this area, making them feel nauseous and suffocated.

Lydia and her team finally reached a relatively safe area behind the breastwork.

They did not see the bloody battlefield they had envisioned, nor did they see the huge breach they needed to plug.

All she could see was a group of exhausted but high-spirited soldiers, leaning against sturdy fortifications, warily watching the dark swamp.

Ahead of the defensive line lay a death zone comprised of barricades, barbed wire, and countless snake-men corpses.

There are wounded. Among the snake people are some archers. The arrows they shoot have iron arrowheads and can cause some damage to the musketeers.

However, Bagnia's combat medic system is very well-developed, with three to five medics in a company of one hundred men, and each soldier also carries a first aid kit.

It can be said that as long as they are not killed or suffer extremely fatal injuries, the soldiers of the Holy Expeditionary Army will receive timely medical assistance.

After leading the group around twice, Lydia had to admit that she had made a wasted trip.

However, she was not entirely willing to return to the supply depot just like that, so she left a few people behind to continue searching for the wounded or to provide any assistance they could to the people there, while Lydia continued forward with two priests.

On the battlefield further ahead, there will certainly be people who need the priest's help.

The closer you get to that death zone made up of barricades and barbed wire, the more suffocating the stench and blood in the air become.

The ground beneath their feet was no longer solid, but a sticky mud soaked in dark red blood, mixed with bits of flesh and entrails.

Under the flickering light of flares in the sky, the twisted, snake-man corpses lay layer upon layer, each with a different shape, silently testifying to the ruthlessness of steel and gunpowder.

Some of the corpses, tightly bound by barbed wire, were still twitching slightly and emitting faint hissing sounds, adding to the eeriness of the scene.

Lydia suppressed the churning in her stomach, gripped the oak scepter and round shield tightly, and her emerald green eyes warily scanned this infernal land.

Then she saw several heavily armed soldiers of the Holy Expeditionary Force standing behind a relatively intact barbed wire fence, seemingly on guard or... chatting?
They are princes... no, they are the king's guards.

Their aura was so distinctive that Lydia could recognize them from afar.

She had intended to go around them, but the sounds of their conversations, mixed with the shouts of soldiers clearing the battlefield and the crackling of braziers in the distance, drifted over clearly.

The contents of that story made Lydia stop in her tracks instantly, as if struck by a silent bolt of lightning.

"Damn, it's gone already?"

"I just finished warming up, and I've only managed to kill three weaklings so far!"

A player wearing plate armor stained with mud and blood muttered grumbling as he wiped the sticky blood off his half-sword with a rag.

His tone contained no fear, no lingering apprehension, only a sense of unfinished disappointment.

"That's right, these strange snakes charged quite fiercely, looking like a huge, dark mass, but they were all made of paper!"

The brothers behind them fired volleys, and a whole bunch of them fell. Only a few managed to get to the barbed wire; there weren't enough to go around!

A player carrying a flintlock pistol chimed in. He removed the bayonet from the muzzle and examined the tip of the pistol in the flashlight, seemingly feeling that there wasn't enough blood on it.

"There aren't enough monsters!"

Another player, who was squatting on the ground and seemingly examining a snake-man corpse, looked up, his tone filled with regret.

"The number of monsters looks intimidating, but the quality is terrible. I didn't even see a single elite monster, just a bunch of regular minions. I even brought grenades to try and clear out a wave!"

As a result, I didn't even throw one of the ten grenades from my waist before those snake-men escaped.

"Exactly! The planners are so stingy. They should at least give us a few tanky bosses to fight. What's the difference between this and mowing down enemies?"
Not challenging at all!

The player wiping his half-sword casually tossed the cloth onto the muddy ground, his tone full of complaints.

"Not enough! Not enough at all!"

The player carrying the gun put the bayonet back in and patted the butt of the gun.

"Hopefully the next wave will be something decent, not just some weaklings feeding kills."

Lydia and her two priests stood frozen in place, like three cold stone statues. The color drained from their faces in an instant, leaving only an unbelievable pallor.

Lydia's fingers, gripping the scepter tightly, trembled violently from excessive force, her knuckles making a slight clicking sound. The edge of the round shield dug deeply into the flesh of her arm, yet she felt no pain whatsoever.

Not enough?
Made of paper?
Too few experience points?
A pushover, a nobody?

These flippant, casual, and even complaining and dissatisfied words, like poisoned ice picks, pierced Lydia's nerves, which had just been numbed by the shock of that death fireworks show!

She had just witnessed the industrial carnage, a massacre powered by steel, gunpowder, and sophisticated killing machines.

She saw thousands of snake people howling, struggling, and being crushed to pieces amidst a dense barrage of fire and treacherous traps.

The gunfire that bloomed like a red lotus in hell, the hailstorm that tore flesh apart, the solid shells that cleaved through alleys of blood and flesh, the barbed wire that strangled and hooked the snake-man to death... all of this was so cruel, efficient, and soul-chilling in her eyes.

However, according to the king's guards who created this mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood, this massacre... was simply not enough?

Those fearless, relentless snake-man warriors were nothing more than trash and paper tigers in their eyes.

A chilling coldness shot from Lydia's feet to the top of her head, making her scalp tingle and her whole body go cold. This chill even surpassed the shock and fear she had felt when she witnessed the battlefield.

It was a completely unfamiliar and utterly horrifying experience, a view of war and life that completely overturned her understanding of them!
Royal Guards, why are you talking about this bloody victory, about those mountains of corpses, about those lives lost in agony... as if you were talking about a game that wasn't exciting enough!
Their tone lacked gravity and compassion, only a regret that the killing efficiency had not met expectations and a complaint about the lack of challenge.

Lydia's emerald green eyes were fixed on the backs of the royal guards who were still chatting and laughing easily.

This... is the Holy Expeditionary Army?

Is this the King's Guard?
Is this the true core that has enabled the Kingdom of Bagnia to be invincible?

An unprecedented chill, a mixture of fear, disgust, and profound helplessness, gripped Lydia's heart completely.

Standing amidst the piles of corpses and the pungent stench of blood, she felt for the first time that, compared to the snake-men struggling in agony on the barbed wire, these victors, chatting and laughing, seemed even further removed from her understanding of humanity.

The two young priests she brought were also completely stunned, their faces even paler than Lydia's. Their hands, gripping their weapons, trembled slightly, and their eyes were filled with fear and confusion as they looked at the players, as if they had seen some kind of indescribable monster.

The world they knew was completely overturned at this moment by the cruel and bizarre conversation before them.

(End of this chapter)