Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 158: Fortress Siege 3



TL: Etude

The number of rebel soldiers leaping onto the fortress walls kept increasing, and the defending army desperately tried to prevent them from widening their breach.

All six of the rebel siege tower ladders were successfully positioned against the walls. The fighting at the two attack points on the left and the two on the right was at a stalemate. However, the situation at the two central points was far from optimistic.contemporary romance

The rebels storming these points fought with a frenzy, their eyes bloodshot as they yelled and attacked the defenders with relentless force. They seemed indifferent to the swords and knives thrust or slashed at them, countering every move with aggressive offense.

However, the defenders were indeed hardly making a dent in them. These soldiers, clad in leather armor, seemed as though they were wearing full suits of fine steel plate armor, protecting them from head to toe. Even their arms and legs easily deflected the defenders’ blades.

Knight’s squire Bowman found himself in a tough fight, entangled with a rebel soldier.

After a few exchanges, Bowman realized that his opponent’s martial skills were not sophisticated, mostly basic military techniques far inferior to his own, honed since childhood under his father’s guidance as he aspired to be a knight.

Under normal circumstances, Bowman felt he could have easily defeated his opponent with a quick maneuver.

Yet, this soldier before him possessed an almost perverse level of defense and strength far surpassing his own, compensating for his lack of skill.

Whenever Bowman struck the soldier’s body, it felt like hitting a steel plate, a sensation he only experienced when battling enemies in heavy armor.

But curiously, this man was only wearing leather armor, moving with agility impossible for someone in heavy armor.

Bowman recalled a report from a severely injured scout a few days earlier, who had also encountered an enemy with unbelievably strong defenses.

As a knight’s squire, Bowman managed to hold his ground against the rebel soldier, but the regular soldiers around him were faring much worse. Close combat had been raging for over ten minutes, and several of his comrades had already fallen, with seemingly no casualties on the enemy side.

It was then that he heard the old duke commanding from the tower, shouting to everyone, “Blunt weapons! Use blunt weapons against those whom swords and knives can’t harm!”

This reminded Bowman of the earlier speculation by the lords, who couldn’t understand the scout’s report. If the enemy indeed had armor-like defenses, making swords ineffective, then perhaps using blunt weapons could make a difference.

Thus, the fortress hastily prepared a batch of blunt weapons like war hammers, though in limited numbers. Bowman was assigned one, now strapped to his waist.

Real blunt weapons were not as large and cumbersome as commonly imagined. For instance, Bowman’s war hammer was only about the size of an adult fist, not the exaggerated hundred-pound, head-sized hammers of minstrels’ tales.

Dodging an attack, Bowman smoothly sheathed his knight sword and unstrapped the war hammer from his waist.

After a few more exchanges with the rebel soldier, Bowman seized an opening and, using all his strength, ferociously swung the hammer at the soldier’s right arm.

The immense recoil numbed his right palm gripping the handle, almost causing him to drop the weapon.

However, the moment the hammer struck, the rebel soldier let out a painful yell, his right arm going limp and his sword dropping to the ground.

Joy surged in Bowman’s heart. “It works!”

Trained as a knight’s squire, he didn’t miss the opportunity to beat a fallen foe. He rapidly swung the hammer, continuously striking the soldier’s body.

After several hits to the chest, the rebel soldier seemed dazed, no longer dodging, just instinctively retreating backward.

Seizing the moment, the knight’s squire pressed forward, targeting the soldier’s head with a vicious blow.

With a “thud,” the rebel soldier Bowman struck was felled, his skull crushed, collapsing backward onto the fortress wall.

Breathing heavily, Bowman excitedly scanned his surroundings for his next target. However, his heart sank as he surveyed the situation.

Although several red-eyed rebel soldiers had fallen after many defenders switched to blunt weapons, the defending army was still being overwhelmed by the enemy, with new assailants continuously ascending the siege ladders.

On one hand, there were only a few dozen blunt weapons available to the defenders. On the other, not all soldiers possessed the martial prowess of a knight’s squire like Bowman.

Without further thought, Bowman re-engaged in the battle, swinging his war hammer with renewed vigor.

As he lunged towards the enemy, he glanced at Sir Klein, a skilled warrior, surrounded by numerous foes yet unflinchingly fighting. With a flail in hand, Sir Klein deftly parried and struck, creating new casualties and bodies amongst the rebels.

Seeing his lord fight so bravely, Bowman’s earlier despair over their dire situation was dispelled. His passion for battle reignited, he roared and charged towards his newly chosen target.

Watching his soldiers continually scale the fortress walls, Scott laughed heartily.

A mage companion by his side remarked, “It seems our attack is going very smoothly.”

“Of course!” Scott said, his mouth curled into a smirk. “With our magical enhancement, even mortals become this powerful.”

“I want to show our senior how significant our role as enchanters is, how we can turn the tide of battle,” Scott thought of a senior in their organization, renowned for bodily enhancement, so powerful that he could single-handedly decimate an army with just his fists.

That senior had always looked down on enchanters like Scott, believing that augmenting combat abilities with external aids was a mere trick.

“True strength lies in the body’s own power, to crush enemies with absolute superiority even when stripped of all else,” the senior had disdainfully said to Scott.

Irritated by this memory, Scott thought to himself, “No matter how much one strengthens their body, there’s a limit. Can you become a god?”

Indeed, Scott acknowledged the effectiveness of enhancement magic. However, for the organization to expand its influence and achieve its goals, it needed to arm a large number of mortal armies, whose members couldn’t learn complex magic due to limited talents.

Although the organization researched body-enhancing spells for mortals, such spells often couldn’t last long. Mages were too precious and scarce to be risked on battlefields just to enhance soldiers. A single mishap could result in a significant loss.

That’s where enchanters came in, capable of temporarily enchanting ordinary equipment before battles and adding semi-permanent enhancements during weapon manufacturing.

By training many enchanters to produce enchanted weapons, they could arm numerous mortal armies, tipping the scales of war with their superior equipment.

Unfortunately, Scott lamented, the senior was away in Northwest Bay on important business, missing their splendid performance.

“What a pity,” Scott thought, “Otherwise, I could have changed his stubborn view of us.”

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