"Stop right now! Or you will bear all the consequences!"
"Retreat imdiately, or we will kill without rcy!"
"..."
Facing the oppressive throng of refugees edging closer, the soldiers showed no reaction, rely raising their muskets calmly, ready to pull the trigger at any mont.
The shouting failed to make them understand, but the soldiers' actions undoubtedly poured a bucket of cold water on the restless refugees. The threat of death cooled their fervor.
That crowd of about three hundred instantly descended into internal chaos, with so breaking away from the group to return to the camp, much to the dissatisfaction of the Heretics.
"You're all backing down? Who's going to charge then?"
"Do you expect *us* to go?"
The agitators redoubled their efforts to incite the crowd.
"Don't believe them! They'll kill you if you go back; it's better to fight them now!"
"They don't dare shoot!"
"Muskets are useless! Last ti I got shot, I just lay down for three days and was fine."
The Heretics scattered among the crowd spouted all sorts of radical nonsense and were reluctantly forced to take the lead again.
Their advance never ceased, yet still, no one fired. This further convinced the crowd that the soldiers wouldn't dare to act, and they quickened their pace uncontrollably.
Soon, the distance closed to within one hundred and fifty yards, and the leader quite naturally lowered his speaking trumpet.
He had shouted only because the military had regulations for handling mobs. They were required to state the terms clearly first; if warnings went unheeded, the matter was out of their hands.
In fact, both the leader and the soldiers mostly despised these troublemakers who, despite receiving the Lord's aid, were causing unrest. They had only shouted without firing because the crowd was not yet within range.
And now, the mont they stepped into range, their fate was sealed.
"First rank, fire!"
At the leader's shout, the line of Gunners fired without hesitation.
Overlapping gunshots roared, booming deafeningly across the clearing, the instantly rising gunpowder smoke forming a screen.
Lacking experience against firearms, the refugees, emboldened by their numbers, had massed together, making them perfect targets.
There was even no need to aim. As bullets whistled into the dense crowd, they instantly caused massive casualties.
Faces were obliterated, and heads blew apart like waterlons, their contents splattering, causing those nearby to shriek in terror.
So had limbs blown clean off... others had their abdons shredded...
This was the power of large-caliber Flintlock Guns; even a graze could cause grievous injury.
But the soldiers' firing did not stop. As the first rank finished shooting and stepped back to reload, the second rank had already raised their guns and advanced.
"Fire!"
At that command, orderly gunshots rang out. Like a scythe cutting through wheat, a line of refugees fell.
This was the power of volley fire by ranks, capable of swiftly tearing through an enemy's formation and shattering their morale.
Agonizing wails erupted from the refugees. This round of gunfire instantly extinguished their greed, and they panicked, scattering in all directions in an attempt to flee.
But the Heretics hidden among them felt a strange power. They did not fear the blood splattering on them and even deliberately grabbed chunks of Flesh to stuff into their mouths. Then, they felt as if endless strength surged through their bodies.
"Haha... hahaha..."
"Flesh for Ascension!"
"Oh God, take ..."
Under the sway of this carnal temptation, the Heretics hiding within the crowd began to lose control, turning the surrounding refugees into their primary targets.
Though unard, they pounced on nearby refugees like frenzied zombies—scratching, tearing, and biting. They brutally ripped off Flesh and gulped it down raw, the seeping blood making their faces appear demonic and crazed.
This threw the refugees into even greater chaos. Chased by the bloodstained Heretics, so even dared to cry out to the soldiers for help.
"Save !"
"Please, save !"
"Aah! Get away from !"
However, the soldiers showed no reaction to the refugees' pleas. So were silently reloading, while the first rank, having finished reloading their muskets, now aid at anyone who dared to approach.
Whether they were genuinely seeking help or not, they could not be allowed to get close.
"Fire!"
Bullets do not discriminate; they struck down refugees and Heretics alike.
The soldiers' cold indifference as they turned to reload ford a stark contrast to the madness of the crowd, showing their utter disregard for the refugees' lives.
And indeed, that was the case.
True, a portion of those in the refugee camp had been queuing, but many more were simply accumulated layabouts.
Conditions had been relaxed, so anyone willing to work could get a full al.
But these individuals neither wanted to work nor continue their flight as refugees. So, they just idled about, sponging off the thin porridge ant for new arrivals each day.
The presence of these individuals tainted Hamlet. Many townsfolk were dissatisfied, and there were nurous complaints within the army as well.
Everyone thought the Lord was still too rciful…
And now was the chance to purge these parasites and teach them that freeloading cos at a price.
"Fire!"
Another command rang out, followed by gunfire that swept away anyone who dared to approach.
With just fifty n firing in two staggered lines, they turned this one-hundred-and-fifty-yard stretch into a killing zone. This was the devastating power of a musket formation once it had sufficient numbers.
Especially against these unarmored refugees, it was like a reaper's scythe, possessing a certain brutal beauty.
"Everyone, get down!"
"Surrender, and you will not be killed!"
Seeing that the situation was largely under control, the leader shouted once more. They had faced the Heretics before and knew that further killing would only make them stronger.
Finally, under the threat of death, most of them dropped to the ground.
However, the chaos was not quelled. When those refugees dropped down to surrender, the Heretics still standing beca glaringly obvious.
They did not fear the power of the muskets. Even when maid by bullets, they could not be easily stopped. Simply by consuming the Flesh and blood from the corpses on the ground, their wounds could be seen healing at an inhuman speed.
On the contrary, death seed to grant them strength, and their once-emaciated limbs began to fill with vigor.
However, the sudden surge of power seed to have damaged their minds, intensifying their lust for Flesh and death.
In contrast, the Musketeers coolly continued reloading, seemingly unaffected by the chaos around them.
"Fire!"
Gunfire thundered—a frenzied slaughter!
「 … 」
The army had stopped the refugees outside the town, but the Sect of Ascension had more tricks up its sleeve.
Those who had infiltrated the refugees believed the attack on the farms was rely bait to draw away the Cavalry. However, for the truly committed Heretics, the refugees outside the town were also bait, intended to tie down the army.
So elite Heretics had long been lurking around the town. When the refugees engaged the army, these elites erged from various hiding places, preparing to disperse into the town to begin their massacre and destruction.
They intended to bring terror to Hamlet, to show them who truly held power…
But as they broke in, they discovered that all town entrances were guarded by militian wielding long spears. Those discarded spears had been put to good use, arming the brave souls willing to stand and defend Hamlet.
Beyond the Spearn were militian equipped with wooden shields. These units looked well-drilled, clearly having undergone training.
Lance knew all too well how rotten Hamlet was. He had always organized and trained so militia. They didn't need to be like the Regular Army—just sowhat organized and able to understand commands.
Just like now—wasn't the effect evident?
How many Heretics could there be? After Lance's consecutive strikes, they could not muster such numbers, at least not in the vicinity of Hamlet.
Lance, on the other hand, could easily assemble several tis that number in militian. These n had received basic military training, possessed a degree of organization, and, fighting on ho turf, had a morale advantage.
Moreover, these n were led by sheriffs who had transitioned from the army. Their purpose was not to kill enemies but to maintain order: evacuating civilians upon encountering an enemy or holding the line until reinforcents arrived.
A very conservative approach, but it was sufficient for their needs.
Because there were still so tough individuals in the town.
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