Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

[Magit Island]

In the sentry post at the southern end of the Coastal Defense Position, the sentry is slacking off.

For this young man who has never left the Mountain Front Territory before, the black nights of the Kingdom of Galloping Horses are terrifying, and only the cramped trenches give him a sense of security.

The narrow space, the slightly warm felt blanket, and the bone-deep fatigue soon have him yawning endlessly.

Just as the sentry is half asleep, a low collision sound suddenly comes from the direction of the Water Barricade.

The sentry instantly becomes alert, quickly pulling the whistle from inside his clothes, puffing out his cheeks, about to blow.

But just before warning, he becomes more cautious, holding his breath, and quietly peeks out from the trench for a look.

The river is pitch black, silent and still.

The sentry finally exhales deeply, realizing he is drenched in a cold sweat.

"Waterfowl?" the sentry speculates.

Just as he hesitates on whether to go out to take a look, two more muffled sounds come in succession from the upstream and downstream directions on the river.

This time, the sentry hears them clearly—it is a dull, heavy sound, definitely not from wild ducks.

But he hesitates again, still not blowing the whistle to alert.

Because once the whistle is blown, the whole island will awaken.

Before, to stake out the rebels, the sentry and his comrades stayed up past midnight and finally got some rest; others are likely just getting some sleep now.

If he drags everyone out of their blankets at this time and finds it was his overreaction, even if the officer does not punish him, he will surely be blamed by his fellows.

Moreover, the night post always comes with various situations; though the night is quiet, it is not entirely silent.

Apart from the noise of the natural environment, these days, the rebels often float logs downstream at midnight to harass the island guards.

So, if every slight disturbance required blowing the whistle, it would fall right into the rebels' trap.

Thinking of this, the sentry pockets the whistle, deciding to first seek out the officer of the night post.

Soon, the Duty Officer follows the sentry to the post, but under the dim night, standing in the trench, he cannot discern the situation on the water's surface.

"Light," the Duty Junior Officer commands succinctly.

The sentry takes out the fire striker and flint, and after several crisp strikes, a warm yellow flame fills the post.

The sentry puts back the lamp shade, and the post once again is swallowed by darkness—to avoid exposure, the United Province Army issues military lanterns with a special lampshade to adjust brightness.

The sentry puts away the fire striker and flint, prepared to go out and investigate.

But the Duty Officer takes the lantern first.

"You stay," the Duty Officer remains laconic, "warn if there's anything."

After speaking, the Duty Junior Officer climbs out of the trench.

After leaving the post, the Duty Junior Officer does not open the lampshade immediately. He gropes in the dark to the riverbank, wades through some water, and comes to the water barricade.

Then, he opens a small slit in the airtight lampshade, carefully inspecting along the Water Barricade.

Soon, the Duty Junior Officer finds the target he is looking for: a raft stuck on the water barricade.

The muffled sound the sentry heard earlier was probably the raft hitting the sharp stakes.

Even from a distance, the young officer is sure that the raft is from the rebels.

Because only the rebels, who lack boats and paddles, would use such a simple raft to bitterly navigate the River Shijian.

Upon close inspection, the officer becomes more certain: the raft on the barricade is bound with logs and barrels, the type the rebels use every night for secretly transporting supplies to Bishop's Castle.

It's painted entirely black, no wonder it's utterly invisible from the post.

Additionally, compared to captured rafts before, this time, the rebel's raft has an extra mast with a rigid sail also dyed black.

Only then does the officer remember, tonight's wind is northwest, whereas previous nights have all been northeast winds.

It seems the rebels have used the wind to silently float the raft to the island.

The officer recalls the sentry reported hearing three muffled sounds.

He looks around but can see nothing.

As the officer ponders whether to summon people to retrieve the raft now or wait until dawn, he suddenly realizes that the rebel raft seems to be "stuck" exceptionally firmly on the Water Barricade.

In the past, rebel rafts were driven by the current and loosely rested against the Water Barricade, and one could easily push them downstream with a stick.

This time, the black raft clings tightly to the sharp stakes, undeterred by the lapping waves.

He bends down for a closer look, finally finding the reason—the rebels this time use a raft with an extra row of shimmering steel spikes along its edge, compared to previous rafts.

The young officer is momentarily stunned, then suddenly realizes that the rebels intend to have these black rafts firmly nailed to the sharp wooden stakes.

Several horrific possibilities flash in his mind as he turns to warn, but it is already too late.

Right before the young officer's eyes, the black raft blooms with flames of death, exploding with a thunderous roar.

The fiery blaze engulfs the officer, stifling his cries in his throat. The shockwave tears the officer's body apart, flinging his remains, along with tons of river water, skyward.

Even the sentry in the trench is knocked head over heels by the blast wave.

Following that, drizzle mixed with chunks of flesh and wood fragments falls into the trench, like a rainstorm.

No warning is needed at all, for everyone on Magit Island is awakened by the deafening explosion.