Magic Industrial Age.

Chapter 533, Section 531: The Majesty of Nature (Please Subscribe)
That night,

In Verdun, there are also people who look up at the sky.

The pitch-black night sky was dotted with stars, the February wind was sharp as knives, and the air was still filled with the lingering smell of gunpowder and blood, exuding an evil aura unique to demons.

As Fak Wood gazed into the darkness, he could clearly feel a strange chill seeping into his very soul.

He could have used his fighting spirit to expel it, but he didn't. Instead, he let go of his mind and body, allowing the chill to invade, as if only in this way could he make his mind clearer.

Tap tap tap tap!

Footsteps approached, and he seemed to be startled awake, turning around. Upon seeing the person, he immediately bowed slightly and greeted them.

"Marshal Joffre, what brings you here?"

I came to see you!

Marshal Joffre continued his journey and arrived at the wall as well.

Standing on the edge, he looked around. As far as the eye could see, the imperial military camp seemed to be hidden in the darkness, like a demon or a monster, inspiring fear.

He took a long breath, letting the cold air seep into his lungs, and then slowly exhaled before asking, "General Wood, how are you feeling?"

"How do I feel? Absolutely immense pressure!"

Fak Wood gave a wry laugh: "Tense, insomnia, anxiety, torment, and feeling like each day is an eternity—none of these can adequately describe my current state."

Standing here, I even hallucinated, as if I could hear the wailing of the dead and see bloodied warriors questioning me.

"They're all blaming me! Blaming me!"

General Falk Wood's expression was a mix of crying and laughing, and he seemed somewhat abnormal. Suddenly, he turned his head and met the gaze of Marshal Joffre.

Their eyes met, and he said, "I'm not afraid to admit it, Marshal, but there have been times when I even wished I hadn't offered any suggestions and that His Majesty and you hadn't adopted them."

Perhaps, that would make things easier for me.

Marshal Joffre reached out and patted General Wood on the shoulder, whispering, "Others can't understand the pressure you're under, but I can! I really can!"

"Since the start of this war in July of the New Divine Calendar 314, I have been subjected to a lot of questioning, especially in the Council of Elders, where those old guys insisted that I make a statement and explain to them."

But how can I explain this to them?

“Those old guys in the Elder Council leak information like a sieve. If I were to tell them my plan, I might end up on His Majesty the Emperor of the Habsburg Empire’s desk the very next day.”

"Besides, a bunch of old guys who hold positions without doing their jobs don't understand war. Explaining it to them is like casting pearls before swine."

"General Wood, can you imagine how it feels to have all the nobles of Luttia cursing me?"

"If His Majesty hadn't trusted me and given me complete confidence, I wouldn't be in this position now."

"But it is precisely at times like these that we must believe in ourselves, believe that we are the saviors of this ancient and noble nation, just like the heroes of ancient times who could lead the Bonapartes out of their predicament."

"Only when we all believe in ourselves can we make others believe in us, and only then is there a possibility of success."

Perhaps it was Marshal Joffre's teachings and earnest advice that finally roused Falk Wood: "Yes, believe in yourself, I must believe in myself."

Seeing that he had finally become resolute, Marshal Joffre abruptly asked, "So, General Wood, ask yourself the same question again, and tell me..."
How confident are you in your proposal?

Fak Wood's expression froze for a moment, but after only a brief hesitation, he became extremely serious: "I've suffered many losses on magic tanks, yet I still made it from the Flower Territory to the Castro Territory."

From that nameless little town that felt like a trap, to the Crab Island fishing port on the Silver Sea, the entire experience lingers in my mind like a nightmare.

"Even in my dreams, I'm doing all sorts of rehearsals, trying to find ways to limit the power of that King of Land Warfare."

My suggestion is the safest idea I could come up with.

"So, if you want to ask me how confident I am?"

"I will answer you, it definitely will!"

"But since it hasn't been put into practice, I don't know how effective it will be?"

The expected answer did not put Marshal Joffre at ease, because he knew better than anyone what this battle meant.
If Verdun is breached, the Bonaparte Empire will be completely finished, and they will be the sinners of this country.

But he also knew that no matter how much he pressured him, he wouldn't get a more accurate answer.

Just when he was at his wit's end, he heard Fak Wood say again, "If we could capture a magic tank, we could do an experiment."

Marshal Xiafei's expression flickered, but then dimmed again: "Given more time, it's not impossible, but now, now, let's not talk about it!"

"If we don't have tanks, internal documents would also work!"

These were Fack Wood's words, which were probably just unconscious thoughts, but to his surprise, Marshal Joffre seemed stunned.

He grabbed Fak Wood and demanded, "What did you just say?"

"What did I say? I think I said we needed a tank for testing."

"No, not that sentence. The sentence after that, you said that as long as we have the tank's internal data, that's fine too?"

"It should be possible, but I mainly need some information to verify my idea."

But how is that possible?
That was insider information; it was even harder to capture a magic-powered tank.

"No, no, no, you're wrong. It's really possible to get this."

"what?!"

Fak Wood was stunned. Before he could say anything, Marshal Joffre said directly, "You wait here until I come back. You must wait."

Before he finished speaking, he had already turned and walked away. After running a few steps, he seemed to find his cane in the way and simply threw it away. This old man, who was bloated and whose health had been ruined by overwork, actually displayed the speed and agility of a young man, and ran down the city wall.

General Fak Wood was stunned, his mind racing with countless thoughts.

However, he remained there, waiting!

This was another ordeal; time passed, each second distinctly visible.

He didn't know how long he had waited—perhaps an hour, perhaps countless years—but he finally saw Marshal Joffre.

Two people followed behind him, carrying a large pile of documents.

Marshal Joffre, still as agile as a young man, ran up to the wall, leaned against it, and panted heavily: "The information you wanted is all here. Quick, see if there's anything you need?"

Fak Wood was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed. He immediately took a step forward, but his legs were numb from standing for so long that he almost fell.

But he ignored it all, propped himself up and moved forward, flipping through the thick stack of documents.

Although his expression was practically overflowing with disbelief, he still quickly flipped through the documents.

A soft light shone, illuminating the area, as a mage raised his magic staff.

General Wood closed his eyes, adjusted them for a moment, and then eagerly opened them again. He flipped through the documents in a mess, but eventually found what he was looking for.

"Yes, yes, this is it!"

Marshal Joffre hurriedly asked, "How is it?"

General Wood looked up: "It's feasible, absolutely feasible. I'm at least 90% sure now!"

"Then what are we waiting for? Execute it immediately!"

"it is good!"

The one who answered was the mage. He took a few steps forward, holding his staff, to the edge of the wall, and pointed his wand at it.

Then, the ball of light flew out, enveloped in a soft glow, and could be seen below.

Countless mages stood there, beneath their feet a massive magic circle.

Strangely, this time the magic circle was very proper, without involving any evil sacrifices or bloodshed.

At the monk's signal, all the monks sprang into action.

Under the command of a legendary mage, flowing magic activated a massive magic circle, and mysterious incantations communicated with an elemental spirit.

More than ten miles east of Verdun lies the Imperial military camp, where the atmosphere is relatively relaxed.

Even here, powerful individuals can still sense the immense magical fluctuations emanating from afar, and everyone from the imperial crown prince to ordinary soldiers remains optimistic.

They don't even really care!

They certainly have the right to be indifferent, because the day before yesterday they defeated the abyss demons, and yesterday they crushed the hellish devils.

What about today?

Even if more undead and skeletal zombies from the underworld come, they're really nothing special!

They have developed enough confidence that they can defeat any enemy that comes their way.

However, what they didn't notice was that a gust of wind blew by, bringing a bone-chilling cold.

……

February 24, 316 of the New Divine Calendar, Verdun Battlefield, Day 2.

The weather suddenly changed drastically; the wind picked up and the clouds surged, dark clouds loomed over the city, and before the sun even rose, a torrential downpour began.

The rain was heavy, almost exaggeratedly so, like a monstrous wave unleashed by the sea god, sweeping up into the sky and creating a hole, so that it poured down to earth.

When you stand in the rain, you can't even open your eyes, let alone anything else.

This rain was clearly abnormal, and of course, it was impossible to limit the Empire's offensive with just one rain.

At the Crown Prince's command, mages erected a defensive barrier and used flames to dry the ground and field artillery.

Although its power has been greatly reduced, it is still usable.

As for the imperial soldiers, when their morale is high, they will naturally overcome all difficulties.

However, once the magic tank was driven out, it encountered a major problem.

These steel monsters certainly didn't care about the rain, but the muddy ground made it difficult for the sixty-ton weight to move forward.

If it only stops there, it can still persevere. Track design is more fearless of harsh terrain than wheel design.

Before the tanks could get close to Verdun, the rain subsided, but then a blizzard struck.

As far as the eye could see, everything was white. The temperature plummeted, dropping below zero in an instant, and the overflowing rainwater froze into ice crystals.

At this point, even something as powerful as a magic tank was frozen in place.

Not just the tracks and engine, but also the fragile parts within them.

Thus, the Imperial Legion, which even the Abyss and Hell could not stop, had no choice but to cease hostilities and rest in the face of the sudden change in weather!

This is the might of nature!
(End of this chapter)