Chapter 123: Artillery Barrage
“Stupid! You missed—completely!”
“Go play with your wheelchair, you’re only allowed to shoot from it from now on!”
Steel Tide shoved the Battlefield Wheelchair Man aside with a curse, his voice sharp with frustration. He’d thought the man actually knew how to fire a cannon—but no, just another show-off wasting one of his precious shells.
Spotting that the enemy commander was still on the city wall, Steel Tide immediately reset his aim and recalculated.
The distance wasn’t great, and the terrain was open—perfect for a clean shot.
“Load firing data!”
“Azimuth 27-00, Elevation 06-80!”
The ogre serving as the gun platform—Daitou—responded instantly, adjusting his massive frame with mechanical precision. He spared a contemptuous glance at the wheelchair man, as if mocking his incompetence. Meanwhile, the second ogre began loading the shell, inserting the fuse with practiced speed.
Battlefield Wheelchair Man stood frozen, utterly useless. Inwardly, he seethed: Did I just get intellectually outsmarted by an ogre?
But Steel Tide had no time for ego. His sole focus was eliminating the elite monster. He roared:
“Ready—fire!”
A thunderous boom split the air. The shell screamed through the sky in a perfect arc—this time, perfectly calibrated. The impact was unmistakable: it was aimed straight at the enemy commander.
...
On the ramparts of Telo City, a black metal shell plummeted from the heavens, striking with brutal precision beside Lord Dawson Vileur Earl.
Boom!
The explosion was deafening. Shrapnel tore through the air. Dust and debris erupted in a violent storm. The earl was blasted clean off the wall, his body torn apart and reduced to a mangled, charred mess—scattered among the shattered fragments of his ancestral armor.
His adjutant and the City Defense Force nearby were obliterated. Pieces of masonry, torn loose by the blast, rained down into the crowd beneath the wall, killing and maiming more civilians.
“Good heavens—!”
“The earl is dead!”
“Ashen Hollow’s broken through!”
“Help! They’re coming in!”
Refugees surged in panic, screaming and scrambling in every direction—some even triggering a stampede. The City Defense Force stood paralyzed. Their lord was dead. Many were too terrified by the sudden, overwhelming artillery fire to react. Some even dropped their weapons.
“What should we do?”
“Should we carry out the execution orders?”
“But… the earl is dead. The captain’s gone too.”
“I don’t know…”
They could only stand by, helpless.
The news spread like wildfire through the city. Telo City plunged into chaos. Loyalists vowed to uphold the earl’s final will, desperate to fight to the death. Cowardly nobles whispered of surrender, clinging to their status. And in the shadows, a Pure-Blooded Serpent spy stirred, sowing seeds of doubt and fear.
Meanwhile, at the Ashen Hollow front lines, the followers were bewildered by the sudden unrest in the city. But the Player? He knew.
> [You have slain Dawson Vileur Earl. Gained 1,200 experience points.]
> [You defeated an enemy commander. Gained 5,500 Faction Contribution for Ashen Hollow.]
“Holy shit—one shot, one kill!”
Steel Tide stared at his character sheet, eyes wide with disbelief. The rewards were staggering—more than he’d expected.
Battlefield Wheelchair Man leaned in, whispering, “Boss… how the hell does that ogre understand commands? And why did it aim so perfectly?”
Steel Tide smirked. “This ogre’s smarter than you. He’s memorized the entire fire table. All I had to spend was three hundred jin of raw meat to motivate him. Unlike you, who just flails around aimlessly.”
“Impossible…”
The man staggered back, stunned. An ogre outsmarted him? In intelligence?
Steel Tide patted his shoulder with mock sympathy. “You’re not cut out for this kind of thing. When we’ve got more resources, I’ll build you a Type II Submachine Gun—go play with that.”
Daitou, the ogre, turned his head slightly, as if sensing the conversation was about him. A cruel, triumphant grin split his grotesque face.
Battlefield Wheelchair Man wiped sweat from his brow, desperate to change the subject. “Boss! You’re awesome! Let’s do another round! Give ‘em a little taste of artillery terror!”
But before he could finish, the Earth Giant Commander—Commander Dolo—had been drawn by the noise. He arrived personally, towering over the group, and asked the Stellarfallen whether they could completely demolish the city wall.
“Probably not,” Steel Tide admitted, scratching his head sheepishly. He patted the barrel of the cannon—still hot. With a sharp crack, the metal casing exploded outward like a blooming flower, smoke curling from the shattered breach.
“This is just a prototype,” he explained. “We’re testing it. It’s only good for two shots max.”
Not that it’s because I cut corners, secretly stole Mithril meant for Ashen Hollow’s armor, and replaced the mortar’s barrel with substandard metal, he added silently in his mind. I swear I won’t tell a soul.
By midday, the chaos within the city began to settle. Dolo, disappointed, still sneered at the towering wall.
“The Master said we must preserve order within the city.”
“But if they refuse to surrender… then I have no choice.”
His eyes gleamed with cruel anticipation. The Master himself was coming to this battle. He wanted to prove his valor and loyalty—so that enemies would tremble at the very sound of his name.
Boom—
Just then, the massive city gate slowly creaked open.
A white flag fluttered from the ramparts.
Centuries of invincibility—gone in an instant. Telo City had fallen, all for the cost of two shells, one of which had even missed.
Under Dolo’s command, the most disciplined forces—the Great Goblins and Lizardfolk—marched in first. The Player followed. Followers like ogres and two-headed dragons were left behind in the bivouac outside, to prevent riots.
The gate opened wide. Ashen Hollow’s army advanced in perfect formation, a disciplined line of steel and fury.
The streets, once bustling, were now eerily empty. Only flickers of anxious, fearful eyes peered from cracks in windows and doorways.
With the earl dead, the highest-ranking survivor was Viscount Berli. Now, he stood at the gate, trembling as he greeted the invading force. His fat body shook with every breath as he faced Dolo—towering, scaled, and terrifyingly brutal.
“M-My lord… I welcome you on behalf of all the citizens of Telo City.”
“Good.”
Dolo grinned, his jagged teeth bared. His scaly face twisted into what he meant to be a friendly smile. But it only made Berli more terrified—certain the dragonblood goblin would devour him at the slightest provocation.
“People will see Telo’s fall as a great humiliation. A farce.”
“But I see it as merely the continuation of the Tiriel Campaign’s outcome. Had the Allied Forces not been utterly destroyed, had brave citizens returned… this would never have happened.”
—From the Chronicles of the Duchy: The Fall of Telo City, Duke Luton
(End of Chapter)
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