I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 471 Industry and War

The Kingdom of Bagnia is undergoing tremendous changes.

Marquis Dirac Sisso was deeply moved by this.

As the four-wheeled carriage rolled over the newly paved, hard cobblestone road of Oncandra, the wheels making a monotonous and continuous rumbling sound, the person inside slightly lifted the silk curtain and cast a complicated gaze at the city outside the window, a city that had been completely transformed.

Three years ago, when he last visited Oncandra, it was still a typical ancient city in the style of Minieses.

Towering noble spires, ancient temples of the Earth Mother, winding, narrow streets, and the familiar scent of spices, leather, and horse manure mingling in the air.

And now...

At Dirac's request, the convoy took a detour, avoiding residential areas and entering industrial zones. They were now driving on an uncomfortably straight, wide street lined with uniform, seemingly identical red-brick factory buildings.

Those factories were huge, bulky, and square, utterly devoid of aesthetic appeal, but that also signified a ruthless efficiency.

Here, towering chimneys are as dense as a forest, ceaselessly spewing out thick black smoke, turning the sky into a hazy gray, and even the sunlight seems to shine through a greasy filter.

The familiar scents in the air have long been completely masked.

Now, the smell of burning coal and sulfur, the acrid smell of smelting metal, the smell of engine oil, and another... indescribable, pungent "industrial" odor, domineeringly filled his nostrils, which could not be completely blocked even by covering his mouth and nose with a scented handkerchief.

As the Marquis's convoy passed through a vast, open factory area, Dirac could hear the awe-inspiring, deafening, and oppressive roar emanating from within through the massive, open iron gates.

It's as if a legendary dragon is lying inside, emitting a hungry roar that inspires fear.

The streets were teeming with people, mostly workers hurrying about, technicians in similar uniforms, and the king's guards in all sorts of armor.

The latter either speak loudly in some strange Chinese that is incomprehensible to others, or ride by on a tall horse, seemingly out of place in the atmosphere of this steel city, yet strangely integrated into it.

Is this place bustling?
There is no doubt about it.

The output here has probably exceeded the total output of any city in the kingdom at its peak.

But Marquis Dirac felt no trace of the vibrancy or humanity of the old city; all he saw were cold numbers, steel order, and a torrent of war-related products.

He saw some vendors by the roadside who were clearly farmers from outside the city. The vendors' daughters or sons were obviously trying to sell some traditional food or small handicrafts to the workers who were leaving get off work. The business seemed to be quite lively.

Workers off-duty or their families often stop to buy a snack with a little spare change, making the streets where these vendors are located densely populated and congested.

"The Overlord Tigers..."

Marquis Dirac murmured the name of the player warband that had taken over the city, his tone carrying an indescribable sense of awe and detachment.

They were indeed like tigers sweeping across the mountains, tearing apart and devouring a century-old city in just three short years, and then excreting the enormous, efficient, yet utterly cold steel behemoth before us.

His carriage crossed a new bridge spanning an industrial canal.

The once clear river water under the bridge now shimmers with an eerie oily color and emits a foul odor. On both sides of the river, ancient buildings have been demolished and replaced by more warehouses and factories.

I heard that the city hall is trying to clean up the river and has put out tenders for engineering companies and teams that can clean the river. It is expected that construction will begin in the second half of this year.

Meanwhile, policies targeting factory emissions are also underway and will be issued before the project begins.

is that useful?
The Marquis was unaware that he had simply drawn the curtains to block out the unpleasant smell from outside the carriage. He leaned back in the soft velvet seat and closed his eyes.

The luxurious interior of the carriage contrasted sharply with the world outside the window.

After this brief observation, Dirac formed a brief impression of Oncandra.

"How far is it?"

Dirac suddenly spoke up, and the coachman outside the carriage, hearing the question, quickly answered.

"Ten minutes left, sir."

"kindness……"

Dirac came to Xiaodaozai's place this time on official business. He wanted to ask the Hegland Regiment to purchase a batch of field guns and three steam locomotives, which involved both military and civilian matters.

If it were a business matter, Dirac wouldn't need to come to Oncandra in person. But he wanted to expedite these two things, so he needed a little help to cut in line.

This would put him in a debt of gratitude, but Dirac didn't mind, because a debt of gratitude is what creates a relationship.

Often, owing favors isn't a bad thing.

The Hisoka family needs allies, and in Dirac's view, the Tiger Band is a good choice.

First, this battle group is powerful enough, as it has proven on various battlefields.

Secondly, it has a city, an important city considered the heart of the royal palace.

The Overlords control the administration and revenue of Oncandra, so the leader of this warband, though not a nobleman, is more prestigious than any nobleman.

With Oncandra, the future of the Overlords is bright and glorious.

Dirac couldn't understand why Prince Chris would restrict the power of the nobles, yet be so lenient towards the entire warband composed of the King's Guard.

Dirac had a vague suspicion, but he didn't intend to investigate further.

Knowing too much isn't necessarily a good thing.

The Marquis currently has an idea: how to become the King's personal guard, or whether the nobles can form a warband.

The chances of these two ideas succeeding are slim, but how will we know they won't work if we don't try?
……

Colonel Ivira stood in knee-deep, warm, sticky swamp mud, sweat streaming down her forehead, soaking her hair beneath her helmet, and mixing with the heavy moisture in the air, making her feel as if she were in a giant coffin being slowly steamed.

As a seaside city, Suvana's summers are already unbearably hot, but now this former land, completely distorted by the evil rituals of the snake people and turned into an endless swamp, has amplified this torment tenfold.

A stench assaulted the senses—the stench of rotting vegetation, the corpses of drowned animals and even humans, and a deeper, more distinctive, sweet-smelling putrid smell of death, characteristic of the snake-man's lair.

Swarms of gnats buzzed and attacked any exposed skin. As far as she could see, there were crooked, dead trees, muddy puddles bubbling suspiciously, and nauseating pale mushrooms and moss floating on the surface.

But she and her Eastern Railroad Guards must fight here.

Even because of the weather, Ivira and her railway soldiers were unable to wear protective suits and breathing masks that could block out all of this.

On this harsh battlefield, it was even more unbearable, to the point that non-combat casualties became very common, accounting for more than 50 percent of the railway corps' casualties.

"Hold the line! Don't let the firepower stop!"

Ivira's voice was hoarse from screaming for so long, but it still carried a commanding tone. Her uniform under her breastplate was covered in mud and dark green snake-man blood, clinging tightly to her body and making her feel unbearably hot.

Before her lay a decisive battle beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

The players of the Holy Expeditionary Army formed the spearhead of the attack.

They seemed to completely ignore the harsh environment, moving swiftly through the swamp in small teams as if they were on solid ground.

Their attack methods were bizarre yet terrifyingly efficient. Some wielded heavy greatswords, cleaving snake-men, scales and armor, in two as they leaped from the mud. Others carried strangely shaped multi-barreled muskets, firing multiple projectiles at once to send snake-men warriors charging towards the front lines staggering backward.

Even worse, some, amidst laughter, brandished flamethrowers, fiercely scorching the snake-man altars hidden deep in the swamp, constructed of slime and bones, their evil runes shrieking and shattering in the light.

The players' battles were filled with a kind of... fanaticism and efficiency that Ivira couldn't comprehend.

They killed with frenzy, occasionally exchanging brief exchanges in a language she couldn't understand, or shouting something maniacally.

The Fifth Battalion of the Railway Guard Regiment, which she led, formed the thick spine supporting this sharp blade.

The soldiers, organized by company, occupied a few relatively solid mounds or ruins, forming temporary firing positions.

The roar of flintlock muskets firing in volleys rose and fell, the white smoke briefly dispelling some of the stench, only to be quickly pushed back to the ground by the humid air.

The three-pound and six-pound field guns were dragged into position with great difficulty, their muzzles spewing flames and lead bullets, blasting the snake-men team that was trying to assemble into a bloody mess, with mud flying everywhere.

"Colonel, left wing... those monsters are coming from underwater!"

A second lieutenant, his face covered in mud, shouted hoarsely.

Ivira turned her head sharply and saw countless twisted shadows rapidly approaching from beneath the surface of the swamp more than two hundred meters to her left, with ominous ripples spreading across the water.

"All units on the left flank, fire freely! Grenadiers... prepare grenades!"

Without hesitation, she gave the order and drew her sword and pistol.

Gunfire, like popping beans, quickly erupted from the left flank, bullets hitting the water and sending up sprays of murky blood.

The grenadiers silently emerged from behind the musketeers, then descended the limited high ground and formed ranks in the muddy water below.

As the snake-man emerged from the mud and water more than fifty meters ahead, baring his teeth and claws as he charged forward, the grenadiers, at the captain's sharp whistle, all turned and swung their arms to throw the heavy, long-handled grenades, which landed twenty meters away.

Dozens of heavy, long-handled grenades traced heavy arcs as they fell into the murky mud ahead, remaining silent for a brief moment.

That brief moment seemed to be stretched out by the viscous air of the swamp, leaving only the hissing of the snake-men charging and the heavy breathing of the grenadiers.

then……

Boom... Boom boom boom!!!

A series of deafening explosions suddenly erupted, engulfing mud, sewage, shattered vegetation, and the twisted limbs of the snake-men in the violent shockwaves, sending them soaring into the sky and creating a brief but brutal curtain of death.

Pre-fabricated shrapnel flew wildly in the flames, easily tearing through the slippery scales of at least thirty snake-men, blasting them to pieces at close range. The scorching blast even instantly vaporized the muddy water near the explosion point into a white mist.

The snake-men at the forefront seemed to have been slammed into an invisible wall, instantly falling over and sprawling with limbs and entrails, their dark green blood staining the waters even more filthy.

The snake-man's frantic screams were instantly replaced by the roar of the explosion and painful howls.

However, the dance of death is not one-way. A grenade might explode suddenly just a dozen meters away from the grenadier's front line, perhaps due to the thrower's excessive force or hitting an underwater obstacle.

Amid the deafening explosion, not all the deadly shrapnel flew forward.

Several hot, sharp-edged shrapnel fragments flew back at terrifying speed, sweeping across the front-line grenadiers like the Grim Reaper's scythe.

A grenadier who had just finished throwing and hadn't even had time to crouch down suddenly jolted as a shrapnel bullet struck his neck. He groaned and fell backward, crashing heavily into the mud. Blood quickly gushed from the gaps in his armor, staining the surrounding mud red.

Another soldier's calf was ripped open. He let out a suppressed cry of pain, knelt down on one knee, and tried to cover the bleeding wound with his hand. His face quickly turned pale.

Another person fell silently; a rapidly spinning shard grazed his forehead, and he lost his life without even making a sound.

The grenadiers wore thick breastplates, leather neck guards, and high-top helmets, but this protection was not foolproof.

There were no piercing screams, only heavy thuds of people falling to the ground, suppressed groans of pain, and a brief period of chaos quickly swallowed up by the aftershocks of the explosion and the clamor of the battlefield.

The soldiers behind them showed grief and fear in their eyes, but they did not back down.

After the first wave of grenades exploded, medics gritted their teeth and, risking further attacks from the snake-men, bent over and rushed forward to find the wounded who were bound to appear and drag them away from the front line.

The remaining surviving grenadiers, under the officer's hoarse command, silently and swiftly drew another grenade from the pouch at their waists, preparing to throw it again. Their bodies were covered in the blood of their comrades and the mud brought back by the explosion, but their expressions were as cold as steel.

This is the price of war.

The immense power of weapons in the industrial age, while ruthlessly devouring enemies, also constantly covets the lives of their users.

In this filthy swamp, every inch of land advanced was soaked with the blood and flesh of both sides.

Standing on high ground, Ivira watched this scene. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails almost dug into her palms, but her gaze still swept coldly across the battle line, searching for the next gap to be filled.

In this final battle, the fighting was brutal and bloody, and every meter that humanity advanced required tremendous effort and sacrifice.

The snake-men's resistance was equally frantic and bizarre.

They take advantage of the swamp's terrain to launch attacks from unexpected angles.

Poisoned arrows shot from the rotting wood, and enormous swamp serpents, unlike anything seen before, were driven to charge the front lines. Even serpent shamans attempted to summon foul water elementals and an even larger cloud of plague.

However, the cooperation between the Holy Expeditionary Army and the Railway Corps gradually took shape through the baptism of blood.

Players are responsible for decapitation and breakthroughs, clearing out the toughest enemies and evil sacrificial points, while the guards are responsible for consolidating positions, clearing out mobs, withstanding frontal pressure, and providing heavy firepower to cover the players' assaults.

The battle raged from dawn until afternoon, and now, at the hottest time of day, the sun relentlessly baked the swamp, turning it into a veritable steam hell.

Ivira felt dizzy, but she gritted her teeth and continued to command the Fifth Battalion to advance, covering the flanks and rear of the friendly forces ahead.

Under heavy artillery fire, the players' elite forces finally broke into the core area of ​​the snake people... the huge lake filled with a thick, green liquid, and the enormous unidentified building in the center of the lake.

The railway guards began to find some relatively dry ground to rest and drain the water, but the players didn't stop; they continued their work.

A steam pump, five or six meters tall, was quickly set up by the players' engineers on the edge of the dark green poisonous lake.

The thick iron pipe, like a giant python, plunged into the viscous lake water, which was almost not like a liquid. Accompanied by the frantic reciprocating motion of the steam engine piston and the high-pitched wail of the steam whistle, it began to greedily devour the venom in the lake.

Thick, dark green liquid with a deadly stench was forcibly pumped out and sprayed through pipes into a pre-dug trench in the distance, flowing towards the sea not far away with unsettling gurgling sounds.

The ocean is a forgiving mother; this little bit of poisonous water can't harm her... Of course, it's inevitable that hundreds of tons of fish and shrimp will be poisoned to death.

Players don't care about the cost; they just need to be careful in the near future and avoid fishing and swimming in the sea.

Thanks to the hard work of these steam pumps, the viscous lake surface began to slowly recede at a visible rate, revealing an even more filthy black mud lakebed covered with skeletons and twisted roots.

The toxicity in the air seemed to intensify, forcing even the most fearless players to don makeshift gas masks.

Just as the pumping operation was halfway through, and more of the base of the eerie structure in the center of the lake, built of twisted bones and black rocks, was gradually revealed, a strange change occurred!

The three lakes near the pumps began to churn violently almost simultaneously, as if an underwater volcano was about to erupt.

Immediately afterwards, three unimaginably enormous creatures burst through the viscous venom and soared into the sky!

Those were three... salamanders magnified a hundred times!

Or perhaps they are some kind of terrifying monsters distorted and catalyzed by the evil rituals of the snake people.

The mountain monster's enormous body resembled a small warship, covered in thick skin slick with dark green slime and repulsive, yellowish warts. Visible venom glands could be seen constantly swelling and contracting on the surface of its skin.

Their heads were flat and ugly, their mouths were wide open, revealing countless jagged, dagger-like teeth, and their degenerated little eyes gleamed with pure malice and madness. As they crawled rapidly, they let out a low roar that shook the surrounding lake water.

These three gigantic poisonous salamanders were incredibly fast; in just a few leaps, they covered a distance of over fifty meters and reached the side of a steam pump.

At the same time, their strength was also astonishing. With just a few sweeps of their thick tails, a heavy steam pump was smashed to pieces like a toy by their combined force. Scorching steam mixed with venom was violently sprayed out, and several slow-moving player engineers were thrown away with screams.

"Holy crap, the boss Barbarossa was talking about has appeared!!!"

"It's three heads... Holy crap, scatter, scatter quickly, don't get wiped out at once!"

"Team up and hold aggro, ranged DPS, focus fire on the left flank first!"

The hundreds of players present quickly went wild; the sudden appearance of a three-headed monster was an absolute delight.

More than twenty players, equipped with heavy tower shields and axe spears, immediately split into three groups and roared as they charged toward the three giant beasts, attempting to establish aggro.

But the power of the poisonous salamanders was beyond imagination. One of them suddenly whipped its tail, sending a player, shield and all, flying and crashing heavily into the mud.

The heavy-armored players' attempt to encircle the three agile monsters failed; they couldn't even get close.

"Flamethrower squad, charge! Burn the hell out of here!"

Because of his expertise in using flamethrowers, Hua Er Da Ji, who became the captain of the flamethrower team, shouted himself hoarse as he personally led a dozen or so players carrying fuel backpacks to rush over.

Ten blazing fire dragons roared out, pouring water around the three-headed poisonous salamanders amidst a ridiculous shout, creating a scorching fire that blocked their movement.

Fire seems to be their nemesis.

A monster that had accidentally wandered into the fire almost immediately jumped out with a scream. Its slime ignited, crackling and emitting a burnt smell, causing it to howl in pain. Its massive body writhed wildly, trying to roll into the lake to extinguish the fire.

The other two monsters followed closely behind, also dodging the flames.

"Block their retreat, don't let them get back into the lake!"

Carrying a flamethrower, he couldn't catch up with the monster and shouted ridiculously.

"Hey artillerymen, stick to plan! Cut off their escape route!"

His shouts were noticed, and under the command of other leader players, several tiger-squatting cannons and three-pound field guns were quickly adjusted from their concealed positions a hundred meters away. Deafening cannon fire rang out one after another, and a large number of iron balls and small shells were rained down on the area between the three giant beasts and the lake.

The three monsters that were trying to retreat back into the lake were immediately covered by this rain of bullets. Although their thick skin and mucus layer protected them from some of the damage, such a dense bombardment still tore them open, and dark red blood and dark green venom splattered everywhere.

The monsters were hurt and were also detained. They clearly had a certain level of intelligence, but they were ultimately just wild beasts, and instinct took precedence over reason.

During the time gained by the artillery barrage, more players wielding swords rushed forward, and when the barrage of shells stopped, they scattered around the monster, surrounding it and attacking it with all their might.

The three-headed behemoth rampaged through the shallow waters and mudflats, spewing dark green venom arrows from its mouth that covered vast areas like a barrage of bullets, corroding everything in their path.

Each sweep of their massive tails carries devastating power, sending players flying like bowling balls. The high-pressure mud cannons they spew after sucking in water cause chaos and destruction on the player's side.

The players were locked in a fierce battle, with casualties occurring every second. But their madness remained undiminished, as they relentlessly charged forward, using explosives, spears, muskets, and their own flesh and blood to entangle the three mythical monsters.

While suffering heavy casualties, the players were also cunningly guiding the monsters away from the lakeshore and in the opposite direction, while flamethrower players sprayed flames on the lakeshore, forming a wall of fire.

The mindless monsters dodged the fire walls and chased after the players who were hitting them hard, until they unknowingly found themselves with nowhere to retreat.

Colonel Ivira watched in horror from afar, unable to believe how long the Fifth Battalion could hold off these three monsters if she led them against them.

It's incredible that the monster's thick hide could withstand the fire of flintlock muskets and tiger-squat cannons.

"All artillery, extend your fire to cover the lakeshore and prevent other snake people from approaching... Musketeers, fire freely to support the King's Guard!"

She gave the order at the top of her lungs, and the railway troops opened fire at full force in an attempt to relieve the pressure on the players and eliminate the small snakemen that were trying to climb out of the lake to support the BOSS.

The battle turned into a war of attrition.

Players, at the cost of staggering casualties, slowly eroded the life force of these three behemoths.

Finally, after paying an extremely heavy price, the first poisonous salamander fell with a mournful cry, followed by the second... and finally, the largest one, under the frantic concentrated fire of all the players' remaining firepower, finally crashed heavily into the mud and lay motionless.

The lakeshore resembled a graveyard of giant beasts, with three enormous corpses intertwined with nearly a hundred player corpses. Dark green poisonous blood, dark red monster blood, and player blood had almost turned a large area of ​​the swamp into a bizarre palette.

More steam pumps were erected, roaring to life, continuing the work left unfinished by their predecessors.

The sinister building in the middle of the lake is one step closer to being completely exposed after paying a price far exceeding expectations.

"How's the construction team's progress?!"

A voice shouted from the noisy pumping site.

"It's still three kilometers away... Damn, the road is so difficult to travel!"

"Hurry up! I'm going to get the siege artillery over here before dawn tomorrow!"

A player covered in blood, with a broken leg, pointed at the building in the middle of the lake and roared.

"I'm going to blast it to smithereens, and raze the den of these snake-men beasts, along with that illegal building, to the ground!"

(End of this chapter)