Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 723: Mopping Up

TL: Rui88

“My heavens! What’s happening?”

Liszt, who had been sleeping, was startled awake by a continuous, forceful pounding on his door.

“Sir, our port is under attack!” came the terrified voice of his attendant from outside.

“An invasion? Wait, where?” Liszt was still a bit groggy.

“The port. It might be a band of pirates.”

Liszt was filled with suspicion and uncertainty. What pirates would dare to launch a direct assault on a port controlled by Alda?

“I have to go see!” He quickly jumped out of bed and hurriedly searched for his clothes. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

“Don’t you go, it’s too dangerous!” Seviya rushed in, her hair disheveled and uncombed.

Her words calmed Liszt down a little. “There are navy gunships docked in the port area, and a battalion of naval infantry is stationed there. They should be able to handle a mere band of pirates.”

Just then, a bright light rose from the west, and a great fire ignited in the port district.

Liszt forced himself to calm down and quickly made his way down the corridor to the front hall, giving orders as he went. “Summon all officials to the Town Hall! Send someone to investigate the situation in the port district! Oh, and I need to contact General Quik immediately!”

“Sir!” A non-commissioned officer in a navy uniform appeared from around the corner ahead, saluted Liszt, and reported, “General Quik has already gone to the port district. He requests that all armed forces maintain their defensive positions as previously arranged and hopes that you can calm the residents and prevent panic from spreading.”

Liszt slapped his forehead. “Right. If the attack on the port is just a feint, we can’t fall for it. Do as the general says!”

Everyone calmed down and hurried to the front hall to await the arrival of the various department heads. At this moment, Seviya put on her hood, covering her dark hair. “I’m going to the port to see. Maybe I can help!”

“You?” Liszt grabbed her. “It’s too dangerous!”

Seeing the intense worry in the man’s eyes, Seviya smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t put myself in danger. You want to know what’s happening there too, don’t you? I assure you, no one here knows how to hide and protect themselves better than I do.”

Liszt hesitated, then nodded his agreement. “Go with the soldiers. Don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

…

“What a terrifying weapon!” Martin cried out in fear, clutching his head as he lay prone behind a pile of barrels on the deck.

As a merchant who frequently visited Lion’s Port, he had heard of the Northwesterners’ firearms. And because the port’s defenses had been strengthened recently, he had even heard the sound of the garrison’s test-firing from a distance.

He had never paid it much mind, until now, when he himself had become the target of this weapon.

Accompanied by thunderous roars, metal projectiles came crashing in at high speed. The ship Martin was on was made of the finest oak, incredibly hard; even hacking at it with an axe would require great effort to leave a mark. Yet, in the face of the Northwesterners’ projectiles, these ship planks were like cardboard, getting pierced with every shot. Wood splinters flew everywhere. Was this kind of power truly something humans could create?

Those who hadn’t disembarked yet, including his own crew and Jars’s warriors, were in for a world of pain. Some were directly hit by the projectiles, their limbs torn apart and sent flying. Others were struck by the flying splinters, falling down and screaming in agony.

“Everyone get off! Get off! Staying here will only make you a target!”

Amidst the sounds of impact, shattering, and screaming, the cloaked man was still shouting desperately, trying to regain command.

He, like Martin, was lying flat on the deck. A moment ago, he had been unlucky enough to be hit in the right arm by a flying piece of wood. Splinters from the broken end pierced his flesh, and the blood seeping out soaked the sleeve of his right arm.

This kind of attack was completely unexpected for the cloaked man. He had thought that the greatest long-range resistance he might encounter would be nothing more than crossbows and arrows.

“Dirk Doyle!” Martin shouted his name. “You people are going to get me killed!”

“Shut up! This is just an accident. As long as we get ashore and proceed according to plan, things will get back on track.”

The wizard named Doyle finally made up his mind. He took a risk, leaped over the side of the deck with all his might, and plunged into the sea with a splash. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his right arm, he climbed onto the pier.

Fortunately, the men who had already made it ashore had begun to act. They were setting fires and creating chaos everywhere, cutting down the locals who came to resist them.

Doyle estimated the numbers. Except for the ship he was on, which had taken the brunt of the attack, the men from the other ships had all disembarked. Adding Martin’s crew of desperadoes, he had about a thousand men at his disposal.

He took out a pre-prepared map. He now had to gather his forces and, under the cover of the chaos, attack the city’s most important building, the Town Hall, while also sending a signal for their Crusader Army allies outside to attack.

The Crusader Army? How disgusting! As a spellcaster, he spat inwardly. He would never have dreamed of collaborating with the minions of the Church, but these were orders from Grand Duke Jars, and he had to obey.

Ever since his “pleasant” cooperation with the Arcane Society, the voracious Jars had witnessed the power of the so-called wizards. However, the Arcane Society’s passive support in terms of war logistics had infuriated him, so the Grand Duke was determined to form his own team of wizards.

This was not an easy task. Most spellcasters followed a principle of seclusion, were highly wary of secular rulers, and carefully concealed their identities. Jars had gone to great lengths to recruit some, and Dirk Doyle was one of them.

For this mission, because it required cooperation with the Horn Bay Church, many spellcasters were very resistant. But Doyle had stepped forward, expressing his willingness to go through fire and water for the Grand Duke.

At this moment, Doyle looked at a warehouse that was already on fire. It was burning fiercely, a perfect tool.

He muttered an incantation and pointed his hand at the warehouse. With a sudden whoosh, the flames on the warehouse grew larger and changed shape dramatically. The fire transformed into what looked like outstretched tentacles, then curled together, finally forming a strangely shaped flower.

Although the effect was peculiar, it was really just for sending a signal.

Jars’s warriors, who were busy creating chaos, saw this signal and immediately began to gather near the warehouse.

Doyle waited by the warehouse. Ten men, twenty, thirty, a hundred… more and more of his men gathered around him. Soon, they would be able to attack the Town Hall.

But as time went on, fewer and fewer people arrived, and a sense of foreboding rose in his heart.

A dense and rapid patter of footsteps approached, confirming his worries.

A large number of uniformly dressed soldiers appeared at the street corner, all holding strange, long-poled weapons.

“Quick! Get them!” Doyle commanded loudly. The warriors of the Undead Army surged forward, shouting as they charged at the appearing garrison soldiers.

A flash of fire erupted, accompanied by a dense roar, and the charging warriors of the Undead Army fell one after another.

The naval infantry battalion stationed in the port district reacted quickly. They had rushed out of their barracks as soon as the first flames shot up.

When the battalion commander determined that someone had infiltrated from the docks and was creating chaos everywhere, he immediately ordered the streets to be cleared squad by squad, but the squads did not spread out too far from each other for easy regrouping.

Following the invaders’ movements, they soon pinpointed the warehouse with the largest fire.

The battalion commander immediately ordered his men to stop chasing the scattered saboteurs and to concentrate their forces on taking out the “core.”

The invaders, who had just begun to gather, were quickly met with an encirclement.