Rebellion 4
Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The faint sound of footsteps, accompanied by the rustling of leaves, came from afar, gradually approaching the camp.
Victor silently counted in his heart.
The first wave of enemies—probably the cannon fodder that the informant Brundy mentioned—were creeping cautiously near the lord's camp, either holding long spears or single-handed swords. Each person was half-crouched, inching forward bit by bit.
Many of them had poor eyesight at night, only able to vaguely see things at a distance, but their master's orders were unquestionable. Moreover, there were generous rewards, which made them slightly bolder.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of explosive sounds erupted from the lord's camp. Blazing light and smoke suddenly spewed out, like the scythe of death, and for a moment, the camp was illuminated as brightly as daylight. One by one, those who approached the lord's camp collapsed to the ground.
"Ahhhhh!"
Shrill screams echoed instantly, reverberating throughout the forest.
The tragic fate of their companions effectively intimidated those who were trying to approach the camp, causing them to hesitate and grow fearful.
"Grayman's forces are still there."
Ferguson and the others, who were overseeing the battle from a safe distance, were overjoyed.
They remained at a safe distance. The recent explosion had been terrifying, but as long as Grayman's forces were still there, they could overwhelm them with sheer numbers.
"Archers! Shoot into the camp with your bows!"
A clatter of sounds followed as those capable of using bows nocked their arrows and began shooting towards the lord's camp.
Arrows whistled overhead. Paul bit his lip tightly, anxiously waiting for the rain of arrows to end. Next to him, Ladia kept her eyes shut tightly, as if everything around her had nothing to do with her.
"Six o'clock direction!" Ladia suddenly shouted.
Several guards immediately aimed their rifles in the direction she indicated, focusing on the moving shadows. After a few shots, the shadow fell.
Unlike the enemies they were facing, the guards at the lord's manor had all been rigorously selected, with exceptional night vision.
The rebels' long-range attacks were ineffective because Victor had ordered all the lights in the camp extinguished early on, and everyone had already found cover, so the arrows missed their targets.
Some tried to sneak close to the camp to throw torches or set fire to flammable materials, but they were shot down by muskets before they could even get near, as if something was constantly watching them. After several lives were lost, no one dared to attempt it again.
After nearly twenty minutes of blind firing, the rebels finally stopped shooting.
"Everyone, charge!" Ferguson shouted loudly, raising his sword high and slashing it through the air.
"Follow me!" A burly man clad in armor took the lead, holding up his double-edged broadsword as he charged toward the lord's camp.
"Kill!"
A large number of people emerged from the forest, either under the moonlight or carrying torches, following the burly man in the charge. In fact, they weren't attacking from just one direction; people were charging toward Paul's position from all sides. Unlike the cannon fodder of the first wave, these attackers had basic protection, and many even wore metal armor. This group was the military force raised by the various families involved in the rebellion.
"There are many enemies approaching from all directions!"
Ladia's voice now carried a hint of tension.
No reminder was needed, as everyone had already discerned the situation from the sound of footsteps and battle cries.
"The most dangerous moment is upon us!" Paul shouted to everyone, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am deeply honored to have such loyal subordinates like you. After this battle, everyone will receive a reward of at least 5,000 silver shields, and the families of the fallen will be given an additional 5,000 silver shields in compensation. We've already sent for reinforcements, and they will arrive after dawn. Until then, I ask you all to fight with everything you have and slay any rebels who dare approach."
"Long live Grayman!"
"Alden forever!"
Paul's words boosted the morale of the guards, who raised their spirits and began shouting slogans under Victor's leadership.
Just as the camp was about to be surrounded, a large number of grenades were thrown from the hands of the guards. The fuses burned quickly through the air, and the grenades exploded before hitting the ground.
Shards of metal, driven by the rapidly expanding gas, shot out in all directions, embedding deeply into the exposed flesh of the nearby rebels. Unprotected faces, arms, and legs were no match for the sharp fragments, which easily caused painful, though not immediately fatal, injuries.
"Hiss~ Hiss~"
"Ahhhhh!"
"I need help!"
The grenades threw the charging rebels into disarray.
Seeing the situation, Paul's guards immediately opened fire, focusing on those who weren't injured or whose wounds didn't prevent them from continuing the fight.
This was the rebels' first encounter with firearms, and they were unprepared. They had even thought their armor could withstand the lord's guns.
The lord's guards maintained a heavy barrage of firepower, with some men dedicated to shooting and others to reloading. The gunfire never ceased, and each shot meant one less rebel able to fight, if not one more death.
After half an hour of continuous assault, the rebels' charge was finally stopped.
Ferguson and old Walter, who were commanding from the rear, were furious at this result.
"Useless! You're all useless! Just a few muskets, and you fall like this."
Ferguson's only memory of firearms was from the time they fought pirates, back when Paul had just developed a matchlock gun for the craftsmen to manufacture. Soldiers had used those guns to fire a few rounds, scaring the enemies, and then immediately had pikemen charge to finish off the shocked foes.
But since leaving Grayman Town, he had no idea how much firearms had developed.
He didn't know that the loading speed, durability, range, and accuracy of the guns had all undergone a qualitative transformation.
"Grayman's black magic!"
Old Walter, who had even less knowledge of firearms, believed that this was the case.
He called his son, Chacon, over. "Son, the priest in town said you were blessed by the Lord of Light on the day you were born. You will surely be able to restrain Grayman's evil magic. Go, for the glory of our family and the Father in Heaven!"
Looking at his father, Chacon nodded firmly.
TL: Poor dumb lad...
(End of the Chapter)
---
Read (FF) ahead on (pa treon . com / CinderTL) – Chapter 771. {We've Caught UP!!!}
Early access starts at $5. Your support keeps this going!
Subscribe & Read Nightmare Strikes FREE!! ;)
Translated 4 Series, 1.65K+ Chapters and 2.01M+ Words.