Iron Powder and Spellcaster

[Steel Castle·South Bank]

Avenue de la République, the only road connecting the South City to the Old City, has been blocked.

This narrow strip of land between the mountain and the lake is now filled with all the obstacles that the Nancheng Sheriff can find: carriages, furniture, boxes and barrels... Even the trees in residents' yards have been cut down and dragged onto the streets.

All the militiamen in Nancheng District stood behind the roadblocks, looking nervously at the old city.

Although they held spears and muskets in their hands, their eyes still flashed with uneasiness and fear.

These "free men" with civil rights were awakened by the alarm bell in bed, dug out their weapons in the dark, ran out of their houses in disheveled clothes, gathered, and hurried to the Avenue de la Repubblica.

After a lot of hard work, the Nancheng militia was still able to maintain a fairly good degree of organization. It was not easy to quickly build roadblocks in accordance with orders.

They have shown that their military qualities are far superior to ordinary people, but the disaster in front of them is still far beyond their capabilities.

The old town is now like a boiler reaching its limit.

Thick smoke billows, and the fires everywhere are like the blazing flames from the furnace; the sky is full of boiling water, and the cries are like boiling steam rushing through the night.

The light and shadow intersect, and the spire of Elin Cathedral disappears and appears; the cold wind is biting, and the road leading to the old city is like a monster's bloody mouth, waiting for prey to fall into its trap.

In the face of such a doomsday scene, personal power seems extremely small.

Even free men who are usually highly respected are like lambs waiting to be slaughtered at this moment, and they can only sit back and watch the situation worsen.

The militiamen were anxious, and the South City Sheriff was even more anxious than Tyler Lenethar.

This senior blacksmith and veteran had just struggled to climb onto the roof of a house facing the street and was observing the situation in the old city attentively.

In a hurry to go out, Bitler only buttoned three buttons of his jacket, and buttoned one in the wrong place.

When the cold wind blew, the frostbite on his hands became extremely itchy. While looking at it, he scratched itching until his skin was exposed and his hands were covered in blood without even realizing it.

There was a noise from the ladder, and Sheriff's Assistant Schler climbed up to the roof panting: "Mr. Lenetal, I found a cloak for you!"

Bitler twisted his head and asked harshly: "Has the person who went to contact Colonel Berne come back?!"

"Not yet." Schler stepped carefully on the tiles towards Bitler, unfolded his cloak and put it on his boss's shoulders.

Bitler pulled off his cloak impatiently, crumpled it into a ball roughly, and asked with wide eyes: "Where are the people who went to the old city to investigate the situation?"

Schler replied hesitantly: "I haven't come back either."

Bitler raised his eyebrows, like a ferocious old wolf, staring at his subordinates: "Not back? Or not sent?"

Schler complained endlessly: "I sent two people, but they haven't come back yet. If I send anyone else, no one will go."

Bitler stared: "If others don't go, you can't go?"

"Don't worry." Schler put the cloak on the old sheriff again: "It's better to wait until the people in front come back and ask about the situation."

Bitler was furious and walked towards the ladder: "Okay! Then I'll go there myself!"

"Ouch! Mr. Lenethal, please stop being so pretentious!" Schler hurriedly stopped the old sheriff and refused to let him go down the stairs.

Only then did the deputy sheriff say what was in his heart: "I don't think this little riot will subside for a while. Let's just guard Republic Street and prevent the thugs from rushing into Nancheng! Don't think about suppressing the thugs. No matter what happens in the old city, let’s wait until daybreak!”

"A small riot?" Bitler pointed to the old city, his gray beard and eyebrows trembling with anger: "You call this a small riot?"

…

Riot is a term that is no stranger to the citizens of Steel Castle.

Wherever there are people, there are conflicts. Steel Castle is the most densely populated city in Monterey.

Conflicts can easily turn into riots in places where social contradictions are intense, and it goes without saying that the internal pressure in Steel Castle is huge.

Imperial calendar year 496, All Saints' Eve. Because the bunks for the vigil were unfairly allocated, a blacksmith had an argument with a monk, which escalated into a fight.

Several blacksmiths who participated in the fight were outnumbered and kicked out of the church, but the anger of the craftsmen, who had long been oppressed by exorbitant taxes and miscellaneous taxes, completely broke out.

A small incident - a change of bunks for a bribe of three small silver coins, turned into a large-scale fight between clergy, nobles and citizens.

After a night of fighting, all the monks in Elin Abbey were driven out of the city. Three times thereafter, armed citizens repelled the mercenaries hired by the Abbey of El Ain to retake the city.

Known historically as the [All Saints' Day Riots].

After a series of events, the riot in Steel Castle was presented to the emperor's desk. In the end, the then Emperor Richard IV made a ruling requiring the people of Steelcastle to compensate for the loss of the monastery, and at the same time allowed the people of Steelcastle to redeem the ownership of the city.

From then on, Steel Castle got rid of its identity as a diocese and became an autonomous city directly under the royal family. Only in some obscure titles - such as the Parish Guild - are traces of the past still present. It is precisely because of this that many of the older generation of Steel Castle people still remember the emperor's kindness.

In the year 527 of the Imperial Calendar, the year after the "butcher" Duke Arléans committed suicide and the end of the First Sovereignty War.

A large number of Monta Empire veterans returned to their hometowns, and a considerable number of them were permanently disabled.

However, after the empire lost the Shannan provinces, its finances became increasingly stretched. Not only was it unable to provide the disabled veterans with the pensions they deserved, but it even increased taxes.

Unable to bear it any longer, the Monta people eventually rose up in rebellion - what the Empire called a rebellion.

The uprising also broke out from the Steel Fortress. The rebel army, composed mainly of veterans, farmers and small citizens, occupied the city hall, breached the garrison and prison, released prisoners, publicly executed imperial tax collectors and officials, and swept through the city in the next month. Mountain, twice defeating the counterinsurgent Imperial forces.

However, because there was no clear demand and members of the rebel army generally believed that "as long as His Majesty knows the suffering we have endured, he will definitely try to eliminate the abuses. All disasters are due to His Majesty's advisers, who are corrupt and authoritarian." The rebels finally chose to surrender on the condition of being "pardoned".

The members of the rebel army who laid down their weapons were immediately hunted and killed. Those who were lucky enough to escape with their lives either remained anonymous or fled to the south.

Historically known as [June Rebellion].

Imperial calendar year 550, that is, ten years ago, the day before May Day.

Thousands of apprentices suddenly gathered in the old city and frantically destroyed and looted the shops, workshops, and warehouses of foreign merchants.

At first there were only apprentices from the brewing guild and the leather guild, and then the largest number of apprentices from the blacksmith guild also joined the ranks of the smashers.

The conflict between the people of Steel Castle and foreign businessmen has been around for a long time, but no one knows what the spark was that set off the powder keg.

Some people say it was because a Veneta businessman named Francisco da Baldi boasted in a tavern about how he seduced the wife of a Fort Steel citizen; others said it was because a group of loan sharks from the provinces violently extorted debts. ; Others say it was the sermon of the mendicant monk Bellin inciting the Monta people to defend their homeland.

In any case, the apprentices, who had been at the bottom of the guild for a long time and were the most bullied, vented their anger on the foreign merchants, and chaos instantly engulfed the steel castle.

The rioters first smashed wine barrels in the St. Paul neighborhood where breweries are dominated, then moved to slaughterhouses and meat markets to loot, and finally smashed, smashed, looted and burned everywhere along the Rose River.

At first, their targets were limited to "foreigners", but soon they became "people who are not from Solingen", and eventually they started robbing whatever they saw.

The streets of the old city soon became a mess, most shops were damaged, some shops were burned down, some people were seriously injured, and some were thrown into the river.

Historically known as the May Day Riots.

It was not until the evening that the garrison outside the city moved into the steel fort to suppress the rioters and impose a curfew, and the chaos ended.

…………

Old Sheriff Bitler was an eyewitness to every riot, riot, and uprising mentioned above.

As for other small-scale commotions and chaos, they were not worth mentioning to the old sheriff.

However, during this riot, Bitler smelled something unusual.

It was different from every time before. This time it happened too fast, the outbreak was too sudden, and the methods were too fierce.

When the city faces a riot, everyone in it can feel the depressing and restless atmosphere. Old Sheriff Bittler is especially keen on this.

But this time, Bitler had no sense of crisis that a storm was coming and the building was about to collapse.

It is true that the unemployed workers stranded in Steel Fort are a factor of instability; it is true that the crisis of the embargo is still unknown; it is true that the flour in Steel Fort is becoming more expensive day by day.

The old sheriff shouted in his heart: "But we won't burn everything down and die together!"

You know, even in the May Day riots, the vandals exercised great restraint and did not set fires.

Fire is the most terrifying nightmare in a city. The bigger the city, the more afraid it is of fire.

A misplaced torch can turn a neighborhood into ashes; an accidental fire can turn a well-off resident into a homeless beggar within an hour.

Therefore, every autumn, a curfew will be implemented in the old town of Gangbao until the first rain of the coming year, just to prevent fires.

So the people of Steelcastle brutally executed arsonists - burning them alive at the stake - as a warning, even giving those who verbally threatened to set fires the equivalent of arsonist punishment.

However, the current situation in the old city is that some people are setting fires and looting without any scruples, as if tomorrow is the end of the world.

Bitler even began to wonder if it was because he was old and his senses were dull, and he could no longer accurately feel the pulse of the steel castle, so he misjudged the situation.

"What should I do?" Bitler had trouble making a decision and clutched the frostbite on his hand harder and harder: "Defend to the south city? Are you going to watch the old city turn to ashes? Suppress the riot? Just rely on my manpower? What to do in the south city?"

A rider rushed out of the dark street. His hair and face were covered with smoke. As soon as he reached the barricade, he shouted loudly: "I am the messenger of Colonel Berne. Where is the Sheriff of Nancheng District?"

"Here!" Upon hearing this, Bitler pushed his deputy away, climbed down the ladder in three steps at a time, and rushed to the barricade with his limping legs: "Where is the colonel? Where is the regiment?"

The rider glanced at the other militiamen and took out a letter from his arms: "Please take a look."

Bitler took the letter displeased.

The letter was rolled into a roll, probably because there was no time to paint it, and it was only tied with a damaged ring - Bitler naturally recognized the colonel's ring. But he didn't say anything, he just took the lantern, squinted his eyes and spread out the letter.

There were still traces of cigarette ash on the letter paper, and a few lines of words were scrawled on it.

Bitler read it hastily, put the letter into his arms expressionlessly, and asked the messenger: "Where is the colonel?"

The messenger whispered back: "With the troops."

"How is the Legion doing now?"

The messenger dismounted and told Bitler: "The troops are blocked in St. Paul Street."

Bitler nodded, the messenger's words matching the content of the letter.

What the old sheriff received was actually a letter asking for help.

The garrison outside the city encountered armed thugs on St. Paul Street, the only way into the city. The thugs' fighting will was unexpectedly tenacious. They built barricades and set fires, and the troops were entangled for a while.

Colonel Bern asked the Nancheng District Sheriff to lead the militia to attack the barricade from the rear in order to defeat the main force of the mob. The colonel predicted that with the backbone of this mob eliminated, other rioters would not be a concern.

Bitler did not hesitate and immediately started ordering people.

He knew every militiaman in Nancheng District. He knew exactly which one was a good player and which one was useless.

Schler panicked when he saw the old sheriff looking like he was about to take the initiative.

"Herr Lenethal!" Schler asked loudly, regardless of the offence. "What on earth do you want to do?"

The militiamen's attention was immediately attracted.

Bitler's face darkened: "Go away, I'm the Sheriff. I don't need to explain to you what I'm going to do."

Schler's voice rose: "I am also an appointed peace officer! I am responsible for the citizens of Nancheng District! Do you want to take someone to the old city?"

"Yes!" the old sheriff squinted at the deputy.

"If you take everyone away, what will happen to Nancheng?" Schler asked angrily, "What will happen if a mob breaks into Nancheng?"

Bitler's face was livid: "Who said I would take 'all' people away? I will naturally leave enough people to defend Republic Street."

Schler asked: "If you take away all the good people, what use will the remaining group of old, weak, sick and disabled people do?"

"Is it possible to watch the old city being burned down?" Bitler also asked loudly: "Ignore it and ignore it?"

When it comes to marching and fighting, the old sheriff is far more experienced than the deputy. But when it comes to debate, two Bitlers tied together can't defeat Schiller.

Faced with the old sheriff's rhetorical question, Schler did not respond directly. Instead, he waved his hand to the other militiamen and shouted: "Then why don't you let everyone talk about it, would you rather save the old city if the south city is destroyed? Or should we do our best?" Our obligation is to protect Nancheng first! Protect our wives and children!"

"You are changing your concept!" The messenger couldn't help scolding Schler.

"Shut up! What does the matter of us Nancheng people have to do with you?" Schler interrupted the messenger rudely, turned around and pointed at the militiaman holding a musket beside him: "Tell me, which one do you choose?"

The militiaman Nuonuo who was pointed out did not dare to speak, and finally stamped his foot: "I listen to everyone."

Schler pointed to another militiaman: "You say."

The militiamen hesitated for a long time and muttered in a low voice: "We must protect Nancheng first."

Schler pointed to the next militiaman.

"Yes, Nancheng is important, but we cannot let the old city be ruined..."

"Don't I know what you are thinking?" Schler yelled: "Your workshop is in the old city. You are afraid that your workshop will be robbed or burned, but have you ever thought about other people? Our homes are all In Nancheng. If the workshop is gone, it can be built again, but if the home is gone, there is nothing left!"

Seeing that Schler had taken control of the situation, the messenger interrupted Schler's speech and asked Bitler loudly: "Mr. Lenethal, you are the sheriff! Make up your mind!"

Bitler's eyes swept across the group of militiamen. The firelight reflected weakness, selfishness and fear in everyone's eyes. The usual bravery and boldness had disappeared.

Bitler was about to break his silver teeth. Schler inspired the militiamen's survival and self-interest instincts, but extinguished all those noble emotions.

Seeing that the old sheriff didn't say anything, the anxious messenger simply bypassed Bitler and conveyed the order directly to the militiamen: "By order of Colonel Berne, the Nancheng District militia..."

"The militia belongs directly to the city council! It is not under the control of the legion!" Schler said, "Bernie wants to mobilize us? Let him get the mayor's warrant!"

"You bastard! You are looking for death!" The messenger pulled the reins and pulled out his sword.

Schler also jumped onto the roadblock and looked directly at the messenger: "How dare you?!"

"Stop!" Bitler shouted: "I have decided..."

"Listen!" a militiaman exclaimed in horror, interrupting the old sheriff: "What's the sound?"

When everyone heard the words, they all listened attentively. The sound of chaotic footsteps made by many people came clearly from the direction of the old city.

The sound was faint at first, then gradually became more pronounced, and then became louder and louder. Without pause, getting closer.

There were also sounds of horses neighing, people crying, and the sound of axles turning "crunching" mixed with the footsteps, reaching everyone's ears.

Thousands of figures emerged from the smoke and night. They were a "fleeing" team. There were old men driving carriages, men carrying handbags on their shoulders, and women holding children.

Different from the scattered people who fled to the south city before, this time there was a steady stream of people fleeing the old city, taking with them all their belongings and abandoning their homes in despair.

"Fire! What a big fire!"

"Mom! Where are you?"

"There's no hope!"

"Show kindness!"

Behind the roadblock, the militiamen were stunned for a moment. They set up roadblocks to stop the rioters who were beating, smashing, looting and burning, but they couldn't stop so many people seeking refuge: "What...what should I do..."

Schler reacted very quickly and grabbed a musket: "Fire! Don't let them come!"

The flash of the muzzle light illuminated the houses on the street and the expressions of the refugees, as if a stove door had suddenly opened and then closed again.

"ah!!!"

"Help!"

"Run away!"

The evacuating crowd, which originally maintained a certain order of things, instantly fell into chaos, with frightened horses running rampant and people unable to dodge screaming.

Some people ran off the road and went into the houses and woods on both sides of the road. Others stepped onto the glacial lake in desperation, hoping to bypass the roadblocks.

There were long bursts of cracking sounds from the crumbling ice, but the people behind were still pushing towards the glacial lake.

"Thugs may be hiding in them!" Schler shouted sharply: "Don't let them..."

The old sheriff couldn't bear it anymore and hit Schler with the butt of his gun in the back of the head, knocking his deputy unconscious.

"Don't let them get on the ice lake!" Bitler shouted loudly, ordering his militiamen: "Move the barricades and let them in, but don't let them run around... Don't panic! Calm down..."

Some militiamen carried out the order, but some militiamen could not hear what the sheriff said. It was a chaotic scene, and one person's cry would be drowned in the sound of despair in an instant.

Bitler grabbed the messenger and yelled: "Go back and tell the colonel, tell him what happened here! Even if I want to help him, there is nothing I can do! Tell him!"

The messenger angrily cracked his whip and rushed through the crowd into the night amid another burst of exclamations and avoidances.

…

At the same time, North City District, Constitution Street.

The roadblocks built by the North City militia were also under attack from the refugees, and the number of the North City militia was far smaller than that of the South City militia, but they responded much more calmly.

"Men go to the right! Women and children go to the left!" More than a dozen riders patrolled in front of the barricade, swinging rattan sticks and shouting: "Throw weapons in front of the barricade. Bringing weapons into Beicheng District will be punished with rioting!" "

At the entrances on both sides of the roadblock, similar quarrels were heard from time to time:

"We are a family!"

"That's not okay! Men, women, and children must be separated!"

"Why?"

"Only Captain Berne's orders! Your wife and children are with other women, what are you afraid of? Leave quickly!"

Another example:

"This is my carriage!"

"This sign is hung on the horse. Hold this sign and come get the horse after dawn!"

or:

"You! What are you hiding in your clothes?"

"I, I, I...I'll throw it outside the barricade right now!"

"catch him!"

"Don't! I didn't do anything!"

"Tie them up!"

"What are you doing? I really didn't do anything!"

"Oh, go talk to the Sheriff! Lock him up!"

In Winters' experience, it is easier to restrain adult men from women and children in emergencies. If they are not managed separately, the safety of women and children cannot be guaranteed, and men cannot exert their concentrated power.

Therefore, according to the arrangement of "Captain Bern", the refugees who escaped from the old city were first divided into men, women and children, and then continued to be divided into smaller groups for easier management. All livestock such as mules and horses were confiscated, and carriages and other items directly became part of the roadblocks.

Wooden piles and ropes were used to form a simple fence, dividing the lake beach and the open space at the foot of the mountain into independent rest areas.

Winters rode in and out of the barricades, sorting out obstructions, deconflicting, and making sure everything was running smoothly.

When he gradually put this simple structure into formality, an unexpected person came to him - Senator John Servetus.

"Captain, some respectable ladies in the North City are willing to provide some blankets and winter clothes to the refugees, but because of your curfew, please send someone to receive them." Councilor Servetus still had a straight face: "Republic Street The residents are also willing to provide hot water and meals, and please send someone to help distribute them."

"No problem." Winters immediately pointed out some people and asked them to take the confiscated carriages and go with Servetus's men to receive the cold-warming supplies. He also called out some people to assist in distributing hot water meals.

Servetus watched silently as Winters mobilized the militia at every turn, without comment.

After Winters had arranged everything, Servetus bowed and saluted: "Tonight, on behalf of Steel Castle, I would like to thank you."

Even though Winters kept his helmet on, he wasn't sure Servetus recognized his voice. But since the other party didn't expose it, Winters just went along with the trick.

"It is my mission to serve the Republic." Winters was already very skilled in speaking clichés. He touched the heels of his boots and held out his hand to Senator Servetus.

Servetus was startled, raised his eyebrows slightly, and extended his hand.

After shaking hands, Servetus turned and left.

"Mr. Congressman." Winters called out to Servetus: "What else do you want to do?"

Servetus said matter-of-factly: "I also have civil rights, so I am also a drafted militia now. You don't have to worry about it, just order me like an ordinary militia."

"That would be too wasteful." Winters stroked his long windy mane: "I want to leave this place to your command."

"Me? Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going……"

Winters was interrupted by a hail of hooves.

Charles rode a horse and stopped in front of Winters, carrying a fat guy in fine clothes.

As soon as the fat man in gorgeous clothes slid off the horse, he vomited out with a "wow" sound.

Servetus frowned: "Mr. Mayor?"

The fat man in fine clothes waved his hands and finally straightened up. He accidentally saw what he had vomited and vomited it out with a "Wow" sound - it seemed that he had eaten enough for dinner.

Winters couldn't help but frown when he heard this. He carefully looked at the fat man in the gorgeous clothes and found that he was really Paul Wooper.

Things are getting a bit difficult.

Because Winters knew in his heart that from a procedural point of view, the fat man in gorgeous clothes who was vomiting in front of him was the current top commander of the Steel Castle militia.

Captain Berne's identity and Colonel Berne's orders can overwhelm the Sheriff, but it is not enough to compete with the mayor's authority.

Speaking of which, Paul Wooper was also unlucky. Seeing the fire in the Este Palace, Paul Wooper did not dare to go out. But old Mrs. Wooper had a stern character, and as soon as she heard the alarm bell, she drove her son out of the house without saying a word.

Paul Wooper had no choice but to wander around the streets with a few servants, dragging him as long as he could. As a result, he was arrested on the spot by a patrol rider enforcing the curfew.

The night was dark, and Paul Wooper was embarrassed to say that he was the mayor, so he thought he might as well spend a night in jail. However, the patrol rider did not take him to the jail, but brought him before the magistrate. Seeing that he could no longer hide it, Paul Wooper bit the bullet and admitted his identity.

The sheriff did not dare to neglect and quickly sent someone to find the captain. So by some strange combination of circumstances, Paul Wooper, who didn't want to show up at all tonight, was brought directly to the front by Charles.

Just when Winters was considering whether to "hide" Mayor Wooper to prevent the latter from intervening in command.

Paul Wooper finally vomited up his dinner and bile, wiped his mouth, gasped and raised his head, and looked at Winters and then at John Servetus with tearful eyes.

Then, without hesitation, he hugged Winters with tears in his eyes.

"Captain Bern, I'm just a loser who doesn't understand anything." Paul Wooper burst into tears: "Tonight, it's all up to you!"

"This guy isn't totally useless," Winters thought to himself, "At least he's very self-aware."

…

[Old Town, St. Paul Street]

Burning flames, smoky streets, and continuous gunfire.

Colonel Berne never thought that suppressing a few petty thieves would be so troublesome.

No matter how far it extends to the north and south shores of the lake, Steel Castle is essentially a city located in a river valley.

She has only one land entrance and exit, which is the narrow road at the bottom of the valley on both sides of the Rose River.

On the north bank, it's called St. John's Street; on the south bank, it's called St. Paul's Street.

Among them, the terrain on the north bank is steep and has always been difficult to walk, so carriages and horses mainly pass through the south bank. The camp of the Solingen garrison is also located on the south bank.

However, this road on the south bank, which is spacious and can accommodate four carriages, is extremely difficult to walk tonight.

Because someone built a barricade to block Bern's troops.

The barricade is as tall as one person and is built with horse-drawn carriages, planks and other debris. It should not be difficult to conquer, but the tactics adopted by the thugs guarding the barricade are extremely clever.

They did not come into contact with Berne's men.

If you're far away, fire a gun; if you're close, throw a grenade.

The silent soldiers of Monta's Standing Legion stepped through the smoke and faced the debris, and finally rushed to the barricade, but were thrown up by a torch, which instantly turned the barricade into a wall of fire.

Yes, it is the fire that affects the speed of the troops more than the barricade itself.

There was fire everywhere, on the barricades, in the houses along the streets, and even the bushes and woods on the south side of the valley were burning.

Colonel Berne's troops had to put out the fire while advancing.

The colonel ordered people to knock down the burning houses along the way, but this caused the troops to move slower and slower.

After finally breaking through one barricade, there was another barricade waiting in front.

St. Paul Street has the Rose River on one side and houses on the other.

Colonel Berne made a prompt decision and ordered a hundred men to cross the river on the ice and occupy the north bank, instead of continuing the head-on confrontation on the south bank.

However, before the centurions crossing the river reached the center of the river, a series of fires burst out in the dark night. The sound of gunfire echoed on both sides of the river valley, and then barrels of gunpowder were pushed down the river - the people blocking the garrison were there. Manpower was also deployed on the other side.

Even the dullest officer has realized that the ambushers have been prepared. What's more, Colonel Berne's intuition is sharper than ordinary people.

"These bastards are clinging to us like snot." Seeing the attacking Centurions being forced back by the fire again, Bern's deputy [Lieutenant Colonel Thomas] punched his leg and said bitterly: "When we enter, they will Retreat. When we retreat, they advance. They want to hold us back and make us unable to move. But they do not engage us in a direct battle, rendering us useless."

Colonel Bern clenched his fists tightly and said angrily: "Stop talking nonsense, am I blind? Can't I see? The key is what to do!"

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas was very familiar with the colonel's bad temper, so he didn't feel angry: "What else can we do? There are not many of them. As long as we can drag them into hand-to-hand combat, we can take them down with one charge."

"Drag him into hand-to-hand combat? How to drag him into a hand-to-hand combat?"

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas sighed: "Then we can only hope that the militiamen from Nancheng District will arrive quickly."

"It's useless to count on anyone! It's better to count on yourself than to count on anyone else! No one in the steel fortress can be trusted!" Colonel Berne looked around at the terrain on both sides of the valley and pointed with his riding crop: "Remember my order and let the second and third The Centurion will assault along the river beach; the Fourth and Five Hundred will return upstream to cross the river and eliminate the musketeers on the other side, so be sure to be quick."

"The front..." Lieutenant Colonel Thomas hesitated.

"Don't waste human lives in vain. Pull them all back." Bern said with a cold face: "Tear down the houses and cut out the walls one by one."

"It takes a lot of time to tear down a house and cut out walls."

"It's better than taking people's lives to make up for it. My young man can't be wasted in a place like this." Colonel Berne glared: "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of anything."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas spat: "Although you are a senior, you still disrespect me too much. When we make decisions together, we naturally share the responsibility."

The sound of hoofbeats pierced through the noise, and a rider galloped along the river.

A series of gunshots suddenly rang out from both sides of the strait, and the lead shot caused broken ice and stones to fly.

The rider clung to the horse's back, desperately urging the horse to run wildly, and dangerously passed through the hail of bullets.

This talented and courageous rider ran all the way to Colonel Berne, raised his hand in salute, and reported in a low voice: "Colonel, the militiamen from Nancheng... will not be here."

Colonel Berne took a deep breath and waved his hand: "I understand."

"Will the militia from Nancheng arrive?" Lieutenant Colonel Thomas asked doubtfully.

"Yes." The messenger replied: "They are neither willing nor able."

Thomas raised his hand and pointed in the direction of the steel castle: "So, what is that?"

Colonel Berne, the courier, and everyone present could not help but look in the direction pointed by the lieutenant colonel:

The sound of hooves is like thunder, and the fire is like dragon.

The iron horse came across the glacier.

[Work hard to pay off your debt! ]

[In order to reduce the number of chapters, we decided to write big chapters! (Not at all)]

[Actually, I didn’t finish it yesterday, but it wouldn’t feel good if I cut it off and published it...]

[The three urban riots and riots mentioned in this chapter all have historical prototypes. They were the Cambridge Riots, Cade's Rebellion and the May Day Riots in London. Restlessness and violence are, to some extent, one of the main themes of citizen life in the Renaissance era]

[As for the crime of arson, there is no distinction between Chinese and foreign. City building materials are mainly wood and soil. The extensive use of stone is a modern thing (the same is true of Rome, but all that can be preserved are stones) (Cement can be regarded as artificial stone) . So fire is the disaster that urban residents fear most]

[In Germany, arsonists will be punished with the death penalty - burning to death, and those who threaten to set fires will also be punished as arson. Because fire is so scary, many gangsters use arson to extort money]

[The song "We Are Gaye's Black Legion" mentions, "Let the red rooster stand on the roof of the monastery". The red rooster is the symbol for warning of arson. Premeditated arsonists will draw a red rooster on the door of someone else's house in advance to send a threat or warning to the owner]

[Thank you book friends for your collection, reading, subscription, recommendation votes, monthly votes, rewards and comments, thank you all]