Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Before tonight, the New Army had never used any barrel weapon with a caliber thicker than a thumb.

As an army of Paratu People, the artillery of the New Army was also not well-known.

So much so that the Southern Front had assumed the "Rebels" lacked the support of artillery.

However, starting tonight, the arrogant United Provincials will truly realize they are not facing a heterogeneous force, but another version of themselves.

Their enemy has received the same training, gone through the same education, and is familiar with their organization, thinking, and tactics, just as they are familiar with their enemy.

This is the true legacy of Ned Smith—the armies of Various Republics have long ceased to be the distinctly different "Various Countries' Armies" of the sovereign wars era. After absorbing each other's strengths, the difference between the armies of Various Republics is far smaller than they perceive it to be.

What the Southern Front needs to defeat is not a noisy, showy, saber-wielding, recklessly charging, sometimes screaming Foreign Cavalry.

What they truly need to defeat is another version of themselves.

So how dare they assume that the "self" would not have firepower more formidable than a smoothbore gun?

When thunder exploded over the river, William Ludwick painfully realized he had made a big mistake.

The tuition was just too expensive.

The first to roar was the cannon of the "Rebels", the muzzle slightly elevated, and the lead shot loaded in the barrel did not fall on the slope but scraped over the top, merely taking away a few heads of musketeers sticking out too far.

However, positioned within the outpost at the top of the slope, United Provinces Soldiers still felt the terrifying power of the Rebel cannon very palpably.

The lead rain accompanied by thunder and flames made the outer walls of the outpost tremble, and the grass canopy at the top of the outpost was directly blown away to some unknown place.

Even the United Provincials, ignorant about cannons, instantly realized the "Rebels" were using some terrifying artillery to bombard them.

North of the landing point, Raymond Montekucoli was exerting all his strength to lift the cannon southward and was shocked.

Because the dreadful roar from the opposite bank was not something ordinary four-pound or six-pound cannons could produce.

Montekucoli staggered and felt dizzy—did the rebels really bring some ancient relic here?

The United Provinces Soldiers had no room to think because another thunderous boom immediately followed the last one.

This time, the gunner known as the "Demon" thoughtfully adjusted the wedge under the cannon slightly.

Two tin cans shot out of the muzzle, then exploded while flying across the river, perfectly expanding into two discs over a distance of 250 to 300 meters, evenly distributed on the slope from the outpost to the trench.

The matchlock gun usually doesn't load more than fifteen grams of powder, while an old-era thirty-two-pound bronze cannon consumes sixteen pounds of powder for a single regular shot.

Flesh and blood cannot withstand the energy contained in sixteen pounds of powder, even if much of the energy is wasted and divided among the six hundred lead pellets.

So when the lead rain swept across the river dike, Ludwick's second-best Hundred-Men Squad instantly turned into fragments of broken limb parts.

Breastplates and helmets were easily pierced like wet tissue paper, followed by bones, tendons, organs, and then the iron plate on the back.

Next, the third heavy cannon fired, the fourth heavy cannon fired, the fifth...

The flames flashed seven times in total, like the lid of hell opened seven times;

Thunder roared seven times, like seven death knells.

When the smoke cleared and the bell quieted down, the Colonel Ludwick's second-best Hundred-Men Squad, seventy-six well-equipped, skilled Permanent Army Sword and Shield Bearers, had no one left intact.

In an instant, the battlefield fell into eerie silence.

Four double-loaded shots had covered the matchlock gunmen on both banks of the River Shijian.

Soon after, cries and wails began.

Finally, the United Provincials, unable to endure the might of heavy artillery, broke their proud silence.

The first assault launched by the Island-Defending Provincial Troops towards the landing site was thus shattered.

Yet the "Demon's" operation was not over.

When the United Provinces Soldiers on the high ground climbed out of the breastworks, trying to drag back their breathless comrades, two more six-pound long cannons mercilessly fired lead rain from the river dike on the West Bank.

The United Provincials who rushed out of the outpost were immediately forced back, leaving behind a few more corpses.

Even the United Provinces Soldiers in the shallow water had their fighting spirit shaken by the cannon, finding it meaningless to continue disturbing the "Rebels", they began to withdraw from the melee and swim downstream.

The Iron Peak County Soldiers on the large boats and in the water did not pursue, the soldiers swam onto the island, while the large boats carrying the wounded sailed back to the West Bank.

The battlefield fell silent for a moment, both sides hiding behind breastworks and trenches, panting heavily.

Only the silent flow of River Shijian remained, as if nothing had happened here.

But the mutilated bodies covering the high slope were undeniable evidence.

Temporary silence foretells that more blood will seep into this land.

On the river dike on the West Bank, Mason gazed toward Magit Island in the darkness, where the Southern Front troops on the island had extinguished their torches, making it impossible for him to see the situation on the opposite bank clearly.

But he could imagine the tragic scene on the riverbank.

He felt both sympathy and relief that the "daughters" of this ancient time didn't blow their barrels.

For a heavy cannon capable of firing a thirty-two-pound solid iron ball, two hundred meters is too close, too close to distribute grapeshot in the most ideal way.

So Mason ordered each heavy cannon simultaneously fill two rounds of grapeshot.

This arrangement seemed risky at first, because in the Battle of Wailing Valley, a heavy cannon did explode, proving these old soldiers from the sovereign wars were not as indestructible as people imagined.

But in hindsight, it was a brilliant move, as the loading method of one charge for two grapeshots reduced the power of individual lead pellets, but at around two hundred meters, it was just right.

Pure mathematical calculations were validated in combat, Mason should have felt proud, yet he wasn't happy at all, instead, he felt somewhat sad.

He looked at the Brigadier General beside him, the nominal commander-in-chief, expecting to see some emotions he lacked on this person's face.

Unexpectedly, Gessa Adonis also looked forlorn, letting out a sigh.

...

[Magit Island]

[Outpost on the east side of the landing point]

"What do we do next, sir?" Lieutenant Bolkow, who was also the most senior Centurion under the current Major, tried hard not to show panic and helplessness, "Should we request reinforcements from the command center?"

"Return to the Monastery, fetch all the alchemical smoke and liquid fire," Ludwick was extremely calm, "Immediately prepare for the second assault."

"Now?" Bolkow was taken aback.

Ludwick coldly glanced at the lieutenant, "Right now, didn't you hear the commotion in the south?"

"The south?" Bolkow listened with his ear tilted, shook his head, "Sorry, I can't hear anything."

"I can't hear it either," Ludwick responded expressionlessly, "This means the Rebels have cleared the southern structures and are about to turn and come back. Heavy artillery across needs loading, now's the best time for the second assault."

"Not asking Kingsfort for reinforcements?"

"If Jansen Cornelius can't see that Magit Island is already in jeopardy," Ludwick's eyes flashed with anger, "we might as well just die here."

"But…" Lieutenant Bolkow wanted to insist.

Ludwick was already too impatient to waste words with this disobedient subordinate, "Fetch the alchemical smoke and liquid fire, do as you will with the rest."

Lieutenant Bolkow knew he'd angered the Major, saluted, and left quickly.

...

Meanwhile, at the "Castle" battery located at the southernmost end of New Town, shielding the Water Gate and river dike.

Jansen Cornelius saw corpses drifting down from upstream.