Dark green poisonous smoke perated the battlefield, with thick smoke billowing up intermittently, sending divine magic light balls cascading onto the soldiers defending the city.
The soldiers, clad in chainmail and ard with spears, anxiously hid behind the battlents, only occasionally did an archer peek out from the crenels, hastily shoot an arrow into the air, and then retreat hurriedly back behind the wall.
Even though there were barely any Black Snake Bay sword and shield soldiers wearing beast-skin robes on the long bridge and open ground before them, the army of the Church was still as if facing a great enemy.
"They're coming!" A sentry atop the arrow tower scread, and in his words, a terrifying shriek pierced the sky.
With a thud, all soldiers and officers buried their heads deep, the entire stretch of the city wall shook, rubble and bricks ascended with the smoke and dust, crashing onto the soldiers' helts with a series of crisp and clinking sounds.
"Damn it." A knight who had accidentally fallen stood up, furiously biting his teeth, treading on the cracks at his feet on the city wall, rushing to the breach, "You bunch of cowards who only know how to use catapults, co here! If you're capable, let's go one-on-one, stop hiding behind your catapults!"
The knight's furious shouts echoed along the wall, with the soldiers huddled together, numbly bowing their heads.
Earlier days still had soone echoing his words, but now not a single person responded.
The angry roars did not affect Mormon's actions; standing on the deck, the river wind flapped the white paper on his clipboard, forcing him to use his elbow to hold down the paper.
He looked down at the pocket watch hanging on the clipboard, then raised his head again, gazing at the Church's bridgehead across the river.
The tall walls built of dark gray bricks were cold and firm; although a thin smoke was risen from the crenels atop the walls, there were no signs of collapse in the short term.
Thousand River Valley and the Western County territories were divided by the Ibe River, with the east bank being a controlled area by the Secret Faction, while the west bank was under Church control.
However, the Church had built fortresses on both east and west banks of this crucial bridge to block the Northern County's transport route to the Southern County.
In recent days, the Salvation Army's guntboats moved south along the Ibe River, bombarding the Church's fortress on the shore while harshly training the new Black Snake Bay army.
Within approximately half a month, following Fraser Fortress, three consecutive Church fortresses fell, with only the two nad Double-Headed Serpent fortresses being impregnable.
And it's no wonder; unlike the Northern County fortresses, the Western County has always been well-funded, being the long-ti base of the Falan Church and Demon Hunters.
Due to the need to resist the Dragon's Breath yearly, this fortress was built with double-layered walls, roughly three tis the thickness of ordinary walls.
Before Horn could complete the casting of the 24-pound or even 48-pound cannons, no quick course of action could be taken against these fortresses.
Nonetheless, under the continuous bombardnt of the Griffin Cannon and the Hawk Cannon, this bridgehead fortress had long lost its function of guarding the bridge.
A few days ago, Wizards had destroyed the middle bridge with fireball crossbows and acid spheres, as for the eastern bank fortress, it was already an isolated city.
As long as the river could be continuously blocked with the inland battleship, the surrender of this fortress was just a matter of ti.
Picking up a quill pen and recording a number on the clipboard, Mormon took a deep breath and shouted with a clear and undeniable voice: "Adjust firing angle, eleven degrees! Load the spring warehouse!"
Several artilleryn of the Divine Punishnt Battle Group swiftly advanced, operating the 12-pound cannon under the direction of a Salvation Army artillery officer.
These recruits wore newly styled uniforms, identical to the Salvation Army, knee-length chest plate style jackets with dark gray and black as primary colors, with buttons neatly arranged on the chest.
Due to the climate of Black Snake Bay, their uniforms were made of linen blend fabric weighing about 210 grams, much thinner than the Thousand River Valley uniforms weighing about 320 grams, yet consistent in style.
Having changed to uniform attire and undergoing fairly harsh disciplinary training, these new troops gradually distinguished themselves from the Black Snake Bay Warriors in beast-skin robes and cloaks.
They stood erect, moving chanically in line, while the surrounding Black Snake Bay Warriors were cloaked in coarse fabrics, with knives and rune ornants clattering under their cloaks.
Sweat beads forming on his forehead, a recruit nervously cranking the screw, eyes fixed on the scale, striving hard to recall the scale representing a number.
Once the number painted in white was blocked by the arm, the recruit poked his head out, giving a thumbs-up gesture to the rear.
The soldiers at the rear imdiately hamred a triangular wooden wedge into the junction of the cannon barrel and the cannon mount until it could no longer be driven in before stopping.
"Is it in position?" Mormon asked, his eyes never leaving the direction of the cannon.
"Report to the gunner, it is in position." After fully loading the spring warehouse and bullets, the gunner wiped his sweat and shouted loudly.
"Very good." With a quick glance to confirm, Mormon raised his right hand and swiftly chopped down, "Fire."
Hook up the latch with a hook, a soldier used the improved Holy Wind Rod pressing down on the H-shaped fulcrum, jumping up and down to pull out the latch in the spring warehouse with a pop.
With a deafening roar, the Griffin Cannon's muzzle spewed out a dim black shadow and sweeping air currents.
The hull shook violently, water splashed, even the stern of the gunboat jerked up, as if attempting to leap off the surface.
Soldiers and warriors around grabbed the ship's sides tightly, the deck emitted creaking sounds from the strain.
Mormon was not distracted by the hull's sway, holding onto the ship's handrail, his eyes closely following the cannonball in the air.
Until that coal-black rough iron ball streaked across an arc and struck the castle wall precisely.
The next mont, the bricks shattered, debris flying everywhere, dust rose high like a small earthquake had erupted.
The battered flag atop the arrow tower was torn to tatters by the turbulent airflow, barely hanging on the bent flagpole fluttering with the wind.
The surrounding Black Snake Bay warriors watched Mormon's actions and the destroyed battlents, despite not being their first seeing, their eyes were still filled with astonishnt and incomprehension.
They might not understand, but that didn't stop them from cheering for every hit.
"teor hits again!"
"Eat shit, priests!"
Mormon lowered his head, calmly recording the screw's scale, ti, and firing effects, completely ignoring the reverent glances of others.
Only when he raised his head again did his gaze inevitably fall on those cheering Black Snake Bay warriors around him.
Mormon frowned slightly, a tinge of bitterness and helplessness arose within; did his fellow villagers truly understand what he was doing?
More than once, Black Snake Bay Wizards inquired overtly and covertly about the secrets of this "ritual magic," asking why with their sa actions, despite acquiring black iron tubes and cannonballs, they couldn't shoot.
In their eyes, this Griffin Cannon, rather than being a sophisticated spring cannon, was like so magic device, usable for teorology only by following a set of specified actions.
If it was before, Mormon would certainly cheer along with them, but now he struggled to integrate, as if an invisible, thick wall separated them.
A Thousand River Valley war not only changed the Thousand River Valley but transford everyone involved in the war.
After the Thousand River Valley war ended, Mormon got recomnded by Horn to enter Saint Danji Military Academy to study mathematics, astrology, and officer manuals.
But reality hadn't given him much ti; he hadn't even finished learning an entire academic year before he had to hastily go south to support his hotown Black Snake Bay.
Upon returning, Mormon felt a complex joy — but soon, such emotions were shattered by reality.
He had to utilize just-learnt theoretical knowledge from manuals within two or even one and a half months to train a new Black Snake Bay army.
Among these soldiers, two-thirds hadn't even touched a musket; within such a short period, Mormon had only taught them to line up and follow commands, then had to put them on the battlefield for direct combat and shooting practice.
Although the Southern County's situation was perilously precarious, he always hoped to stay in the Central County for a few extra days, at the very least letting these recruits get proficient in the sixteen-style spear manual before venturing forth.
After completing the day's amount, Mormon gave a whistle, and the gunboat he was aboard slowly docked.
When his leather boots made crisp sounds on the dock walkway, a waiting ssenger at the dock imdiately stepped forward and waved greetings: "Lord Mormon, his Highness requests your presence!"
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