Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 539: Rebellion 7

TL: Rui88

“He… he… seems to be cooked?”

Paul covered his nose, looking with some nausea at the obviously overcooked “teppanyaki” before him.

Fortunately, this wave of attack had been repelled again…right after that person was roasted. Judging from his attire, this person’s identity must have been very important, although Paul didn’t know whose face was under that burnt-red iron armor…or rather, whose face it used to be. Of course, he had no interest in confirming it; seeing that scene would surely leave a lifelong impression on him.

Paul even hoped that the person inside the iron armor was his family knight, Ferguson. He was now filled with hatred for that traitor and had cursed him a hundred and eighty times in his heart.

This was the most dangerous situation he had encountered since he transmigrated. Ah, that’s not quite right. There was also that time he met a crazy wizard on the road.

“Ugh…” a guard lying beside him moaned in pain. This brave and dedicated guard had just blocked a sword blow for Paul with his body. After being bandaged, he could no longer fight.

Paul squatted down and carefully moved his guard to a more comfortable position.

“Thank you, my lord.” “Don’t say anything, just rest well.”

He silently prayed for the guard’s health in his heart. Sigh, such a deep wound, and he had neither penicillin nor sulfa drugs right now.

“Lord Grayman,” Ladi reminded him from the side, “after suffering so many defeats, the rebel army is very likely to resort to a fire attack. The kindling they brought won’t just be for a barbecue.”

“Are you… confident in protecting everyone?”

Paul looked at Ladi with some doubt. Although his camp was set up in an open area, the ground was covered with lush weeds.

“I will do my best.”

Do her best? Hearing Ladi’s words, Paul’s heart felt a little bitter, but her next sentence lifted his spirits.

“Also, I have good news for you. The Eighth Infantry Battalion is already on its way here.”

“What?”

Paul cried out. This was tremendous news.

“Gentlemen!” he mustered his strength and shouted to everyone in the camp, “Our reinforcements are coming! The nearest Eighth Infantry Battalion is heading this way. As long as we can hold on, the dawn of victory will surely shine upon us with the morning sun!” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

As expected, as soon as this good news was announced, the gloomy and anxious atmosphere that had pervaded the entire camp almost instantly disappeared. Although no one shouted in excitement, a light of hope burst forth from everyone’s eyes.

“But!” After careful consideration, Paul still decided to tell everyone in advance, “Next, the traitors may use fire to burn the forest to deal with us. Everyone must be mentally prepared. Lady Sertia will use a special method to protect everyone, so you don’t need to worry too much.”

These words made everyone’s heart tighten again, and serious expressions returned to their faces.

As for Lady Sertia’s special method, after the battle just now, everyone had roughly guessed what it was, especially that sudden jet of flame, which was truly impressive.

Although her possible identity might be a little troubling due to certain legends, everyone felt mostly respect for this beautiful lady who had fought alongside them. People who have faced life-and-death situations together, no matter how unfamiliar or even estranged they were before, will always have a mysterious force that makes them resonate with each other.

The battle to come would be a mix of crisis and hope!

…

Chakon’s tragic state caused the morale of the besieging rebel army to instantly collapse. After several failed sieges, a rumor had begun to spread quietly among them: the tyrant lord Paul Grayman possessed evil black magic that could ignore defenses and take lives directly. Now, a fire dragon shooting out from the camp had killed Chakon, which seemed to confirm the legend that Grayman possessed black magic.

Under the immense pressure of fear, the besieging thugs retreated once again, leaving behind a field of corpses and screaming wounded. They retreated to where Ferguson and the others were.

“Bastard, what did you say?”

Old Warren learned of his son’s death from the mouths of the defeated soldiers. His eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets, and his thin, withered hands gripped the narrator’s arm tightly.

“Impossible! This is impossible! My Chakon is a child blessed by the gods. How could he die by Grayman’s evil black magic?”

The old man’s crazed appearance terrified the narrator.

“Lord Warren, please accept my condolences,” he said with a trembling voice, afraid that the notoriously harsh old man in front of him would stab him with a single blow.

“Ah…ah…ah…”

Old Warren threw his head back and screamed, “Paul Grayman, I will avenge my son!”

Ferguson watched coldly from the side, letting old Warren vent for a while.

When the other man stopped to catch his breath, he placed his hand on old Warren’s shoulder.

“This is a grievous matter. Chakon was a good lad. He died for justice.”

“To hell with justice,” Dimitri Warren shook off Ferguson’s hand. “I want Paul Grayman to go to hell right now.”

He hurriedly walked a few steps to a bundle of torches, reached out, and held one up.

“Ferguson, execute your final plan now. Sacrifice Grayman and his minions to the flames, to comfort the soul of my poor child.”

…

The commander of the Eighth Infantry Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Carter Holly, once again whipped the horse’s rump. The mount, which had just slowed down a little, immediately perked up and raised its four hooves high as it had a moment ago.

Before setting out, the city hall of their station had been very cooperative with the army’s request, requisitioning more than four hundred horses from the city overnight. This was more than enough for the Eighth Infantry Battalion, which was currently only at half strength. All two hundred and sixty-plus men in the battalion rode horses, and the remaining horses were also taken along for changing mounts on the road.

Carter Holly was now extremely glad that his battalion’s soldiers had all undergone equestrian training; otherwise, even if they could have requisitioned the horses, it would have been useless.

“Report!” A signalman ran over from the front of the column, saluting the lieutenant colonel.

“What is it?”

“We are about to reach Babor Village ahead.”

“Good!” Lieutenant Colonel Holly happily rubbed his palms together.

Lord Grayman’s letter had said that several families in Babor Village were participants in the rebellion.

“Immediately seal off all access roads to the village.”

“Yes, sir!” The signalman, also on horseback, returned to the front of the column.

The lord’s letter only said that he was trapped in a certain forest nearby. Lieutenant Colonel Holly needed to learn the more specific location from the traitors’ families.