In the Name of Empress-Chapter 365 - 251: Who Is More Ruthless

"Boom!" "Boom!"

The deafening roar of hundreds of heavy artillery firing in unison.

Huge projectiles hit the ground, dirt erupting everywhere.

Those directly hit by the solid cannonballs naturally turned into a mist of blood, while those grazed were miserably maimed with limbs torn apart.

The cries of agony from those injured by the shelling echoed across the battlefield, exceptionally harrowing.

Smoke rolling, flesh flying, screams lingering.

The battlefield seemed like purgatory.

When Marco launched his attack, the usually composed and prudent General Deschamps uncharacteristically went personally to the front lines to urge the troops forward.

He understood politics, but he never meddled.

He’s merely a soldier, bound to carry out the orders of the president.

Who the president is, isn’t his concern.

He had some sympathy for Alina, but not much.

In his view, since Alina had left, she should have reclined abroad rather than returned to incite rebellion.

The struggles for power above, yet ordinary soldiers must pay the price with their lives; he was weary of it.

He only wished to quickly end this civil war that was constantly bleeding the country.

Though President Marco’s personal virtues could not be called noble, he had a firm grip, an excellent ability to lead the Jin Yuan Kingdom through impending chaos.

Alina lacked such ability, and Carlo, who loved to preserve his reputation, even less.

Despite disliking Marco, Deschamps was still resolutely on the president’s side.

He was willing to choose someone capable of leading the country out of its predicament.

Deschamps, with his seniority and high prestige, was a rare civilian general with outstanding reputation in the military. His presence on the front lines greatly boosted the morale of the Third Legion and dispelled the soldiers’ resistance against Marco.

"The old general is watching us!"

"We can’t let those rebels win!"

Yet, amidst the voices of support, there were many who silently lowered their heads.

The number of these silent ones was not small.

The reason for the soldiers’ differing attitudes was simple. Supporters were mostly of civilian background, whose families hadn’t been executed by Marco.

However, many soldiers’ families had been sent to the guillotine in the past year or more.

Expecting them to understand Marco’s grand strategic deployments was clearly impossible.

They only wished to find a chance to shoot the president in the back, to let his mind explode.

Regardless of support or not, with Deschamps at the front lines, the Third Legion temporarily ensured unity and cohesion, and proactively launched an attack.

Feeling the positive changes on the battlefield, Marco was excited; he raised his sword and ordered another attack.

The loading speed of heavy artillery is very slow.

Cleaning the remaining powder in the barrel, reloading ammunition, correcting shooting coordinates, and continuing to fire.

This process often takes several minutes.

In the previous volley, nearly a hundred heavy artillery roared, instantly killing nearly a thousand people.

At least a third were the exiled infantry at the forefront.

Along with them, many more cavalry were taken.

Marco had only five hundred Demon Armored Cavalry under his command, the rest were elite cuirassiers.

Robust reinforced plate armor could withstand bullet fire, but couldn’t stand against artillery shells.

The cavalry suffered hundreds of casualties, and worse, the horses were terrified.

The most excellent war horses could charge through artillery fire, but such horses were rare; most horses reverted to basic animal instincts amid the wild bombardment, throwing off the riders and fleeing on their own.

Soldiers have families and must obey discipline; horses don’t care about these.

After the shelling, at least three thousand cavalrymen from Marco’s troops lost their horses, becoming infantry.

His luck was equally bad.

Marco wore the finest Magic Armor; as long as no vital spot was hit by a shell, he was fine, but his horse was flesh and blood, it couldn’t withstand it.

The projectile fired by a 12-pound cannon landed square on his horse, smashing it into mince.

Marco was thrown off the horseback; nevertheless, he was calm and composed, unhesitatingly pulling a passing cavalryman off and seizing the horse, becoming a gallant cavalryman once more.

Marco galloped back onto the battlefield, yet the soldiers willing to stay by his side were gone.

Soldiers aren’t fools; who’d want to stand by a tyrant who casually sacrifices soldiers’ lives?

They pretended to fight fiercely, yet distanced themselves from Marco.

Marco couldn’t be bothered with them; his gaze locked onto Alina amidst the crowd, full of murderous intent.

Being targeted by Marco, Alina felt a sudden chill down her spine like a frog stared down by a venomous snake, but she quickly composed herself.

Marco was a Transcendent; she was well aware of it.

His prowess was already formidable and must have advanced rapidly over the past year.

If she were still the former Alina, she’d surely stand no chance.

But she was no longer the somewhat naive traveler.

She slowly took off her glasses.

With glasses on, she was composed and efficient, like an old captain commanding a fleet to sail the seas.

Removing the glasses simultaneously removed her commander skills, exchanged for stronger personal combat ability.

Though Arts Student Alina seemed naive, her duel capability far surpassed Captain Alina.

Glancing at the interwoven battlefield and Marco’s rapidly advancing light cavalry, Alina too locked eyes on Marco.

This decisive showdown was destined to end with a traditional knightly duel.

Even though neither of them were knights.

"Let him come!"

Alina lightly commanded, making the guards before her step aside.

These individuals couldn’t possibly stop Marco, nor even consume him.

Rather than let them die in vain and inadvertently keep boosting Marco’s morale, it’s better to make way.

The distance of two hundred meters was covered in the blink of an eye.

Even though they made way, the exiles’ hatred for Marco was too deep.

They raised their firearms and fired one last volley.

Marco’s horse was shot dead again.

A cruel smile appeared on his lips as he lightly leapt in front of Alina.

"Alina, long time no see."

He calmly drew his longsword, pointing it at Alina.

Alina tightly gripped her sword in her right hand, holding a specially made pistol in her left, without hysterically questioning Marco about why he betrayed her father, why he killed her father.

She didn’t say a word of nonsense and instead calmly started shooting.

Words are pale; expecting them to hurt Marco was impossible.

If words can’t harm the enemy, then it’s better not to speak.

At the moment she fired, Roland’s smile before the battle flashed through Alina’s mind.

What control is there in war?

By now, the course of battle had long diverged from Roland’s expectations, totally chaotic.

She hoped she could win. But she knew Marco’s talent. This man seemed born to struggle with others.

He excelled at various methods of combat, including one-on-one duels.

If only Roland were here.

Alina silently thought that Roland always came up with clever strategies to deal with strong enemies. Like in the battle to encircle and kill the Old Commander.

If Roland were here, he would most likely take the opportunity to attack Marco from behind while he was fully engaged.

That’s what he would do, based on her understanding of Roland.

But sadly, he was not here.

Alina could only face this life-and-death struggle alone.

As she threw away her pistol and charged forward, Alina sighed in her heart.

Roland, where are you?

...

Roland was on the move.

In an unnoticed corner, a small number of light cavalry were galloping across the plains.

They wore Jin Yuan uniforms but communicated with each other in authentic Sussex Language.

In the center of the cavalry, there were clearly Roland and Lisa.

The day West City was taken, Roland didn’t have time to reunite with Sylph before he donned a Jin Yuan uniform retrieved from the storeroom and set out on horseback.

Sylph didn’t understand, thinking it unnecessary to hurry, but Roland insisted on going.

Under Roland’s insistence, Sylph stayed in Xidai to handle various matters, while Roland took Lisa with him.

It wasn’t because Lisa had stronger combat skills than Sylph, but because her political skills were too weak, unable to stabilize the unrest in West City.

Sylph never imagined that one day Roland would consider her to have stronger political abilities.

She didn’t even know whether to feel gratified or angry.

Although she didn’t fully agree with Roland’s judgment, Sylph fully supported him.

After all, Roland had been right too many times before.

Another reason for bringing Lisa was to deal with the Demon Armored Cavalry.

As a disciple of the Great Mage Anthony, Lisa easily dealt with these mass-produced magic equipment.

As long as she released a stagnation spell, she could temporarily stop the magic armor from functioning.

Without the support of their magic armor, Marco’s cavalry was just an ordinary cavalry unit.

Despite his frantic pace, Roland had underestimated Marco’s decisiveness.

Bad news: Marco’s advance was so fast they couldn’t catch up.

Good news: Marco’s advance was so fast, no one intercepted Roland.

Roland and the light cavalry led by Jes, dressed in Jin Yuan Kingdom uniforms, passed through several lines of defense and finally reached the battlefield at the height of the fighting.

Finding the Demon Armored Cavalry, Lisa finally had her stage to perform.

She unfurled a magical barrier and released a stagnation spell, tossing magic scrolls as if they cost nothing.

Mass-produced soldiers couldn’t compare to the personal disciple of a Great Mage.

The magic armor, sturdy in the face of gunfire, was vulnerable in the face of true magic.

The Demon Armored Cavalry collapsed in agony, losing their combat ability.

Seeing Lisa was chanting a spell to prepare a large-scale destructive magic, Roland hurriedly stopped her.

"Stop, I need these magic armors! Leave this to you, I’m going to provide support."

"I can’t stop; once a magic is charging, it must be released, or it will backfire." Lisa’s cute face flushed red, and the backfire from forcibly slowing the magic’s charge made her blood boil.

"Aim there!" Roland saw the duel between Marco and Alina and pointed to the duel scene.

Although Alina’s combat technique was exquisite, she was still slightly inferior to Marco.

Her resistance was fierce, yet she continued to retreat, getting injured in three places.

Lisa hesitated for a moment, then hurled the fully charged giant fireball down.

Alina had long seen Roland, and with his hand gesture as a hint, she quickly withdrew from the battlefield with a risk, taking the hit to escape dozens of meters away.

At the moment Marco was about to pursue, the fireball landed.

Deprived of his magical ability, the magic armor couldn’t protect Marco; he screamed in agony, getting scorched terribly.

As he stumbled back and steadied himself, he realized no one was around him.

He was surrounded.

He was at the end of his road.