No one understood the power of the "Shaped-Charge Armor-Piercing Weapon" better than Ludwig and the other pilots of the Teutonic Knights.
Because just in these few months, relying on this "can opener" capable of ejecting high-temperature tal jets, they had made the Teutonic Knights the strictest "father" to the Knights of the Golden Fleece, the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Order of the Garter.
And now, the wheel of fortune had turned, and it was finally their turn to face this terrifying weapon.
Right now, the only reliance Ludwig and the others had were those extrely ugly-looking steel plates attached to the outside of the cockpit and on the shoulder armor.
This was an additional defense device called "Spaced Armor," welded on by the magitech technicians of the Teutonic Knights based on the concept provided by Morin. It was said that the technicians at the knight order’s headquarters were researching a stronger "Composite Armor" based on another of Morin’s ideas, but for the mont, there were no results yet...
To be honest, the first ti Ludwig saw the spaced armor welded onto the Armored Knight, he was almost angered to laughter.
How was this any kind of advanced equipnt?
It was clearly just finding a few discarded armor plates, propping them up with a few steel rebars, and hanging them outside the main armor like an illegal construction, leaving a gap of about thirty milliters in between.
Compared to this, the "Shaped-Charge Armor-Piercing Prototype Weapon" that Morin hand-rubbed with people in Seville back then looked sowhat "exquisite"... And this set of spaced armor also made the originally majestic and domineering "Siegfried Type 1" look bloated and clumsy, like a fat man wearing an ill-fitting padded jacket.
"Damn... if these few broken pieces of tin can’t block it, even as a ghost, I won’t let Friedrich and Patricia be together!" Ludwig gritted his teeth, controlling the Armored Knight to take faster strides under the "Synchro Operation System."
The radiant crystal internal combustion engine on the back of the eighteen-ton steel giant let out a roar. Without any intention of dodging, it crashed straight toward that white machine.
And opposite them.
Viscount George of the Holy Britannia Empire’s Order of the Garter was currently in a state of extre excitent.
"Co on, Saxon barbarians!"
He looked at that gray, dirty machine opposite him, a cruel smile curving at the corner of his mouth.
Over these few months, the Order of the Garter had suffered trendously in the face of the Saxons’ new weapons.
That weapon capable of easily penetrating a knight’s main armor had once beco the nightmare of all Britannian knights.
But it was different now.
Although the engineers of the Imperial Royal Academy of Engineering were pedantic, their ability to dismantle and reverse-engineer was not bad.
In a short ti, they completed the reverse engineering of this new Saxon weapon, successfully putting it into mass production and equipping the troops...
"Fuck, what kind of miserable days were we living before!"
Viscount George adjusted the machine’s posture, protecting himself with that huge tower shield. The magitech muscle bundles in the right arm tensed, and that "Empire’s self-developed" shaped-charge armor-piercing lance was ready to strike.
Two hundred ters.
One hundred ters.
"Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!!"
A burst of tapping sounds that could even be called rude suddenly exploded on Viscount George’s mount.
He was surprised to find that the gray Teutonic iron lump opposite actually had two extrely ugly machine guns welded to the sides of its head, like it had grown two fire-breathing malignant tumors.
Viscount George was stunned for a mont, then the disdain in his eyes grew even stronger.
"This is also worthy of being called a knight? It’s simply a blasphemy to glory!"
Although the dense rain of machine-gun bullets could not penetrate the armor, that series of impacts triggered the Armored Knight’s own defense chanism.
With a "buzz," a light blue spell shield automatically activated, isolating those bullets outside.
Imdiately after, three 77mm assault gun shells also smashed fiercely onto the shield, causing the blue light film surrounding the "St. George Type 3" to vibrate violently.
"Hmph, the sa old trick."
Viscount George sneered. These Saxons were always like this—upon eting, first use ranged firepower to deplete the shield, and then engage in close-quarters hand-to-hand combat. "Turn off the automatic shield! Save mana!"
Even to save mana for the upcoming close-quarters combat, Viscount George very skillfully cut off the mana supply to the spell shield. "Clang-clang-clang!"
The bullets, having lost the shield’s obstruction, smashed directly onto the tower shield and the thick front chest armor, emitting bursts of ear-piercing, crisp sounds, but other than scratching that expensive outer paint, they simply couldn’t penetrate armor of this level.
"It’s useless! I’ve already seen through your tricks!"
Viscount George roared. Seeing the distance had closed to fifty ters, that was the distance to decide life and death.
The Saxon machine opposite seed to also realize the shooting was ineffective, and those two machine guns finally stopped roaring.
Imdiately after, amidst splashing mud, the two steel giants crashed fiercely into each other like two angry bulls.
"Boom!!"
The sound of shield colliding with shield was simply like two armored trains colliding head-on at high speed.
The huge impact force transmitted into the cockpit along the chanical arms, shaking Viscount George so much his internal organs were churning.
He found that he and the leading Armored Knight opposite almost simultaneously lost balance for a mont—this indicated the opponent pilot’s level was not low. He was a master, but that was it.
Because when there was no gap in the levels of the pilots on both sides, the advantage of the Armored Knight’s own performance would occupy the decisive factor. "The St. George Type 3 isn’t just good-looking!"
Viscount George, who was the first to recover from the loss of balance, began his counterattack.
This Armored Knight, representing one of the highest magitech achievents of the Holy Britannia Empire, demonstrated astonishing flexibility. It did not resist this impact force head-on but borrowed the force of the rebound to retreat a bit, followed closely by one of the sturdy chanical legs suddenly taking a step to the side.
An extrely beautiful tactical side-slip.
And Ludwig’s machine had just recovered from the loss of balance and subconsciously stepped forward to charge, which also resulted in a fatal opening instantly appearing in its side defense.
"Die!"
Viscount George seized this once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
The shaped-charge armor-piercing lance in his hand thrust out like a venomous snake, the spear tip pointing straight at the position of Ludwig’s cockpit.
At this distance, at this angle, even God coming couldn’t save that Saxon.
However, just at the instant the spear tip was about to touch the opponent’s machine, Viscount George’s line of sight swept over the opponent’s armor.
That weird feeling surged in his heart again.
Why does it feel... this machine is a size fatter than in the intelligence?
This thought flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning, but the movent in his hand could no longer stop.
The lance pierced in.
At this ti, Ludwig finally reacted, desperately trying to twist his body, but the heavy machine simply didn’t have ti to make such a large-scale movent.
"Boom!"
A dazzling orange-red fireball exploded on the armor on the left side of the "Siegfried Type 1’s" cockpit.
Inside the cockpit.
Ludwig felt his heart completely stop beating at that instant.
He subconsciously closed his eyes, waiting for the severe pain of being sliced in half by a high-temperature tal stream.
However, the anticipated death did not arrive.
Except for the temperature in the cockpit soaring instantly making him feel like he was thrown into a sauna, and a violent vibration coming from the left side of the machine, he... seed to still be alive?
"Blocked?! It really blocked it?!"
Ecstasy shot through his whole body like an electric current, followed closely by a cold sweat.
Ludwig obviously wouldn’t understand that the tal jet of the shaped-charge armor-piercing shell was detonated the mont it contacted the first layer of steel plate.
That high-temperature fluid capable of lting everything penetrated the outer plate but rapidly diffused and lost focus in that thirty-milliter air interlayer. When this tal stream that had lost its concentrated penetrating power crashed into the main armor inside again, its power was less than one-tenth of what it was.
It was like a basin of scalding molten iron splashed on a wall; although hot, it simply couldn’t penetrate!
"Morin! You fucking genius!"
Ludwig roared, that relief of surviving a disaster instantly transforming into the purest killing intent.
At this mont, Viscount George opposite him was completely dumbfounded.
"What?!"
Looking at that Saxon machine, which only had so scorched side armor and a piece of outer iron plate blown off but still moved freely, this Britannian noble’s worldview collapsed.
This was a weapon that could easily penetrate the main armor of the "St. George Type 3" in tests!
Everyone knew that the Saxons’ "Siegfried Type 1" was inferior to their "St. George Type 3" in various technical indicators... But why, when everyone had similar shaped-charge armor-piercing weapons, the one in his hand was like a fire poker, having no effect at all? In the less than one second that Viscount George was dazed, the montum of offense and defense reversed instantly.
Ludwig didn’t give the opponent ti to think about this physics problem at all.
He released multiple limiters of the Armored Knight—doing so could briefly increase power output and machine flexibility, but would drastically reduce the service life of key components.
This "fatty" machine that seed sowhat clumsy just now erupted with astonishing ferocity under his control.
No flashy techniques whatsoever.
Ludwig directly controlled the Armored Knight to close in. The tower shield on its left arm acted like a door panel, fiercely slapping open Viscount George’s shield defense, which was sowhat lax due to shock.
The middle door was wide open.
That beautiful "St. George Type 3," devoid of any "ugly external armor" protection, was exposed nakedly to Ludwig’s spear point.
The equally deadly lance held in Ludwig’s right chanical arm, carrying the fury of revenge, thrust in fiercely.
Once again, a dazzling light exploded between the two Armored Knights.
Without the interference of spaced armor, the power of the shaped-charge armor-piercing shell was perfectly released.
The ultra-high-temperature tal jet instantly lted through the "St. George Type 3’s" proud enchanted breastplate, drilled into the cockpit, and instantly vaporized the noble inside who was still pondering "why," along with his seat.
"Boom!"
A violent catastrophic detonation occurred from within that white machine. Its head was blown off like a champagne cork; the massive body convulsed, then crashed heavily to its knees in the mud.
Ludwig panted heavily, pulling out the spear shaft that could still be reused, a wave of lingering fear in his heart.
The clash just now was in a split second. Only after the battle on this side ended did his two comrades just engage the enemy’s remaining two Armored Knights.
However, after the lead machine was blown up by Ludwig, these remaining two Armored Knights were visibly panicked.
"Unit 2! Unit 3! Don’t give them a chance! While they haven’t figured out what’s going on, finish them off!"
"Understood!"
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