Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The fat man in fancy dress just slid off his horse, and immediately "wah" vomited out.

Selvit furrowed his brow: "Mr. Mayor?"

The fat man from the capital waved his hand, finally straightened up his back, and upon seeing his own vomit unintentionally, he "wah" vomited out again—it seems that he had a rich dinner.

Winters heard this and couldn't help but frown. He took a careful look at the fat man in fancy dress, and it really was Paulo Wuper.

Things were getting a bit difficult.

Because Winters knew very well that technically, the fat man in fancy dress vomiting incessantly in front of him was currently the highest commander of the Steel Fort militia.

While Captain Berny's identity and Colonel Berny's orders could override the Sheriff, competing in authority with the Mayor was a bit lacking.

It was also unfortunate for Paulo Wuper. Upon seeing the huge fire at the Este residence, Paulo Wuper originally did not dare to go out. But Mrs. Wuper, with her strict personality, upon hearing the alarm bell, kicked her son out of the house without a second word.

Paulo Wuper had no choice but to wander up and down the street with a few servants, thinking to drag things out. Unexpectedly, he was arrested on the spot by patrol riders enforcing the curfew.

In the dim night, Paulo Wuper was too embarrassed to reveal that he was the mayor, thinking he might as well stay in jail for the night. However, the patrol riders did not take him to prison, but brought him before the Sheriff. Since he couldn't hide anymore, Paulo Wuper braced himself and admitted his identity.

The Sheriff did not dare to neglect him, and hurried to find the captain. Thus, through a twist of fate, Paulo Wuper, who wasn't planning to show up tonight, was directly brought to the front line by Xial.

Just when Winters was considering whether to "hide" Mayor Wuper to prevent the latter from interfering with command,

Paulo Wuper finally threw up all his dinner and bile, wiped his mouth, and gasping for breath, looked up tearily at Winters, then at John Servette.

Then, without hesitation and with tears brimming in his eyes, he hugged Winters.

"Captain Berny, I am just a worthless fool." Paulo Wuper sobbed, "Tonight, everything depends on you!"

"This guy isn't entirely useless," Winters thought, "At least he is quite self-aware."

...

[Old Town, St. Paul Street]

The scorching flames, the smoky streets, and the incessant gunfire.

Colonel Berny had never thought that suppressing a few petty thieves could be so troublesome.

Whether extending far along the lakes of the north and south, essentially, Steel Fort is a city situated in a river valley.

It has only one land entrance and exit, at the narrow path along the valley bottoms of both banks of the Rose River.

On the North Shore, it's called St. John Street; on the South Bank, it's called St. Paul Street.

The North Shore terrain is steep, always difficult to traverse, so vehicles and pedestrians mainly pass through the South Bank, where the Solingen State troops are also stationed.

However, this spacious South Bank road, which can accommodate four carriages side by side, is extremely difficult to navigate tonight.

Because someone has built barricades on the street to block Berny's troops.

The barricade is more than one person tall, composed of carriages, wooden planks, and other miscellaneous objects. In theory, it should not be hard to conquer, but the tactics used by the rioters defending the barricade are extremely clever.

They do not engage Berny's men in close combat.

If distant, they shoot; if close, they throw grenades.

The brave sons of Monta step through the gun smoke, facing the shrapnels as they charge the barricade, then suddenly a torch is thrown, instantly turning the barricade into a wall of fire.

Yes, more than the barricade itself, it is the fire that hampers the troops' progress in speed.

Fire was everywhere, on the barricaded streets, inside the houses along the street, and even the shrubs and woods on the southern side of the valley were burning.

Colonel Berny's troops had to extinguish fires as they advanced.

The Colonel ordered that burning houses along the path be pushed down, however, this caused the troop's advance to slow even further.

Barely breaking through one street barricade, there awaited another one ahead.

On one side of St. Paul Street was the Rose River, and on the other side were houses.

Colonel Berny decisively ordered a Hundred-Men Squad to cross the river on ice, occupy the North Shore, and not to continue with a frontal assault on the South Bank.

However, before the Hundred-Men Squad even reached the middle of the river, the pitch-black night burst into a series of flashes of fire, gunshots echoed on both sides of the valley, followed by whole barrels of gunpowder being pushed into the river – the intercepting garrison had also deployed personnel on the opposite bank.

Even the slowest officers had realized; the ambushers were well-prepared. Not to mention Colonel Berny, whose instincts were sharper than most.

"Those bastards, sticking to us like snot." Watching the Hundred-Men Squad pushed back by the fire again, Berny's deputy [Lieutenant Colonel Thomas] pounded his leg and said angrily: "When we move forward, they retreat. When we withdraw, they advance. They just want to pin us down, making us unable to move. Yet they won't engage us in direct combat, leaving us nowhere to exert our strength."

Colonel Berny clenched his fists tightly and said irritably, "Stop stating the obvious, am I blind? Can't I see that? The key is what to do now!"

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas, familiar with the Colonel's temper, was not upset: "What else can we do? They aren't many, just drag them into melee combat and a charge can take them down."

"Drag into melee combat? How exactly?"

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas sighed: "We can only hope that the militia from the South City arrive soon."

"Hope for nothing! Relying on others is nowhere as good as relying on ourselves! Not a single reliable one in the fort!" Colonel Berny scanned the terrain on both sides of the valley, pointed with his riding crop: "Remember my command, let the second and third Hundred-Men Squad assault along the river bank; the fourth and fifth Hundred-Men Squad return upstream to cross the river and eliminate the musketeers on the opposite bank, hurry."

"What about the front..." Lieutenant Colonel Thomas began but hesitated.

"Don't waste lives in vain, withdraw everyone." Berny said coldly: "Dismantle houses, chisel walls, dismantle and chisel through one by one."

"Dismantling houses and chiseling walls will take a lot of time."

"Better than wasting lives for nothing. My men can't be wasted in such a place," Colonel Berny glared: "Don't worry about it, I'll take responsibility."

"What are you saying?" Thomas spat: "Although you are my senior, it's a lack of respect to me. Decisions should be made together, responsibility should be shared together."

The sound of hooves 'clattering' pierced through the noise, as a rider came galloping along the river.

Gunfire erupted on both banks immediately, with lead shot splashing ice fragments and stones flying.

The rider stayed close to the back of the Warhorse, desperately urging it to gallop furiously, narrowly crossing through the rain of bullets.

This daring and skilled rider rushed all the way to Colonel Berny, saluted with his hand and reported in a low voice: "Colonel, the militia from the South City… will not arrive."

Colonel Berny took a deep breath and waved his hand: "Understood."

"The militia from the South City will not arrive?" Lieutenant Colonel Thomas asked puzzled.

"Yes," the messenger replied: "They are neither willing nor able."

Thomas pointed towards the direction of the fort: "Then what is that?"

Colonel Berny, the messenger, and everyone present couldn't help but look in the direction pointed by the Lieutenant Colonel:

The sound of hooves like thunder, the firelight like a dragon.

Iron horses tread across the icy river.