Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 229 Let the mage go first!
At the moment the explosion occurred, Master Albert felt a sudden white light before his eyes, and the entire world seemed to be torn apart.

The magic scroll of the [Anywhere Door] was activated. After the magic model was formed in an instant, the power of spatial distortion enveloped him and forcibly dragged him away from his original position.

At that moment, he saw Angus also panicking and trying to do something, but the dazzling white light from the self-destructing heart had already completely engulfed Angus's figure.

The spatial transformation was completed in the next second.

He was teleported from that deadly street to another parallel street 150 meters away, a street he had just run across.

Before he could even get his footing, an indescribable, terrifying force attacked from behind.

"boom--!!!"

The deafening roar seemed to tear his soul apart, followed by a violent shaking of the ground beneath his feet, causing him to stumble and nearly fall.

The brick and stone buildings on both sides of the street, under the visible shockwave, resembled sandcastles blown by a gale, with spiderweb-like cracks instantly covering their walls.

Then, with a series of ear-piercing cracking sounds, the entire building collapsed.

A barrage of bricks, wood chips, and glass shards rained down on him like hail.

"Damn it!"

Albert instinctively raised his left arm to protect his head, while simultaneously casting a [Shield] spell on himself, attempting to create a basic barrier in front of him.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Countless pebbles slammed into the translucent shield in front of him, but the shield's defense was quickly depleted. The enormous impact still made him wince in pain, and a brick the size of a human head slammed into his left arm, which was protecting his head.

"Crack!"

A crisp cracking sound rang out, followed by excruciating pain from his left arm.

"Ugh!"

Albert groaned in pain, his body thrown back several steps by the force of the impact, finally landing hard on the rubble-strewn ground.

He felt as if his left arm had been broken, hanging limply at his sides, unable to muster any strength.

Smoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder enveloped the entire street, and visibility was frighteningly low.

Ignoring the excruciating pain in his arm, Albert struggled to his feet, looking disheveled and utterly wretched.

His white beard and hair were covered in black dust, and his magnificent mage robes were torn in several places, making him look like an old beggar who had crawled out of a garbage dump.

He coughed violently, looking up in the direction of the explosion as he did so.

There, a huge mushroom cloud, mixed with flames and thick smoke, was slowly rising, obscuring the sky.

Even from a distance of over 150 meters and through layers of buildings, he could still feel the devastating aftershocks of that energy.

Albert's heart sank lower and lower; he knew that he had survived purely by luck.

At the last moment before the explosion, his intuition told him that he sensed the deadly magical fluctuation, and he subconsciously tore open the [Anywhere Door] scroll on his body.

He had prepared this scroll to save his life in the most critical moment, but he never expected to use it up today.

But what about Angus? And what about the other three mages who came to help?
Are they still alive?
Albert raised his right hand with trembling hands and activated the communication bracelet on his wrist.

"Angus! Respond if you hear me! Angus!"

"Fernand! Where are you?"

"Roy?!"

The communication bracelet was completely silent, indicating that the four lights representing Angus, Fernand, Roy, and another fifth-circle mage who had rushed to the scene had gone out.

They're all dead now.

Four highland mages, including a seventh-ring archmage, were wiped out in the earth-shattering explosion just now by that Saxon barbarian in a way he never expected!
Angus is a seventh-ring enchantress like him, a backbone of the Highland Mage Corps, and a valuable strategic asset to the Empire!
That's it...gone?

A complex mix of anger, fear, and sadness surged into Albert's heart, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He couldn't understand how things had gotten to this point.

They were just here to hunt down a low-level spellcaster who stole the detonator, how did it turn out like this?

How did that Saxon man manage to do it?
How could he know there was an ambush on that street?

No. Now it seems that it wasn't an ambush, but a trap he set himself!

He used himself as bait, luring the five highland mages into that deadly trap!

"A madman. That guy is a complete madman!"

Albert muttered to himself, his voice trembling slightly, a tremor he himself was unaware of.

He recalled the tragedy in Seville and the legend of the 'Mage Killer' that circulated within the Highland Mage Order.

He used to scoff at this.

In his view, it was more likely that this was something the surviving but terrified highland mage had fabricated in a panic.

But now he not only believes it, but also experiences it firsthand.

This hunt was a mistake from the very beginning.

They thought they were the hunters and the Saxon was the prey.

But in the end, they discovered that they were the ones who were lured into the trap step by step and were ultimately hunted down by the other side!
"No wonder that surviving guy rebuilt the Protection School after returning to the Mage Tower. So that's why."

A series of hurried footsteps came from the other end of the street, interrupting Albert's thoughts.

He suddenly raised his head and looked warily in the direction from which the sound came.

A group of Brittany infantrymen emerged from the smoke and dust, their faces filled with panic.

They were taken aback when they saw Albert standing in the middle of the street like a demon, but then they recognized the mage's robes he was wearing.

"It's Master Albert!" an officer exclaimed in surprise.

"Master! Are you alright? What was that just now? Was it a Saxon magic crystal cannon?"

Albert didn't answer their questions. He just glanced coldly at the fleeing soldiers, then turned and limped toward the heart of Amiens's southern city, dragging his severed arm.

He has no interest in dealing with these ordinary soldiers right now.

He had to return to headquarters immediately and report everything that had happened to Field Marshal John French.

No, it's not just a report.

He had to make a decision, a decision that would determine the lives of all the highland mages who had followed the expeditionary force to this land.

"We must evacuate immediately!"

Albert roared inwardly as he walked.

The tragedy of Seville must never be repeated in Amiens!
The blood of the Highland sorcerers must not be shed in vain for these foolish Gauls!

As he walked, he reactivated his communication bracelet. This time, he used his highest authority as the leader of this operation to issue a shocking order to all the highland mages still fighting throughout the city: "Attention all highland mages, this is Albert. Immediately terminate your current combat missions, abandon your positions, and evacuate immediately! Assemble at the expeditionary force command post in the central square of the south city! I repeat, immediately terminate the mission and evacuate immediately!"

He knew that once this order was issued, it would mean the complete collapse of the Brittany expeditionary force's defenses in Amiens.

Without the support of mages, the already insufficient infantry and armored knights simply could not stop the Saxon attack.

But now, he can't care about that anymore.

The life of the Highland monk was far more precious than the land of the Gauls.

Moreover, this mission, which was ostensibly 'assisting in combat' but was actually 'battlefield research,' has now come to a conclusion.

He also had enough to report to the higher-ups of the Highland Mage Order.

Albert had realized that the situation was worse than the high command of the mage corps had told him before they set off, or that both the mage corps and the imperial high command had underestimated Saxony’s rapidly advancing military strength.

Not to mention that the enemy's armored knights already possess a certain technology that would likely allow them to completely defeat their own armored knights in combat.

Even armored airships in the air pose a much greater threat than we realize.

The imperial high command and the mage corps have always considered it a cumbersome 'aerial artillery turret,' believing that mages could destroy the massive gasbag by approaching it with flight spells and then using disintegration or other high-level attack spells.

However, judging from the current situation, this 'aerial turret' is already enough to threaten all ground units, and its own magical shield and anti-air weaponry are also fully capable of killing any approaching mages.

Unless you trade it for more high-level mages, but that would obviously be a completely unprofitable deal.

The situation of the war has completely changed.
Marshal John French felt he was going crazy.

In just one morning, the battle situation changed dramatically, and in the worst possible way.

First, Saxon armored airships appeared, interfering with the mages' guidance of the magic crystal cannons and covering their ground forces as they broke through the northern outer defense line.

Immediately afterwards, the eight high-ranking mages led by Master Albert suffered heavy losses in the battle with the armored airship.

Although one Saxon airship eventually crashed, it also cost five of their own mages, including a sixth-ring mage.
Moreover, the crashed Saxon armored airship directly destroyed 18 magic crystal cannons at three magic crystal cannon positions, not to mention the large number of infantry casualties in the crash zone who were unable to take cover.
Then, the Saxons seized the railway bridge connecting the north and south banks of the Somme River, and large numbers of enemy troops began to pour into the southern city.

Just now, an unprecedented explosion occurred in the area near the riverbank in the southern part of the city. The terrifying power could be clearly felt even by the expeditionary force headquarters located far south of Amiens.

One bad news after another left him dizzy and breathless.

He was anxiously awaiting news from Master Albert, hoping that the seventh-ring archmage could lead the counterattack forces to retake the railway bridge, or at least blow it up to stop the Saxons' follow-up forces.

Just then, the door to the command post was suddenly pushed open, and a messenger scrambled in.

"Marshal! Master Albert... Master Albert is back!"

"What?" John French perked up and asked immediately, "How is it? Have they taken back the bridge?"

However, when he saw Albert walk into the command post, the surprise on his face froze instantly.

Where was the unfathomable master demeanor that Master Albert usually possessed?
He was covered in dust and blood, his magnificent mage robes were tattered, his face was as pale as paper, and his left arm hung limply at his side, clearly broken.

In the command post, the other highland mages who had just returned from other fronts after receiving the assembly order were also stunned to see Albert's appearance.

"My God! Master Albert, what's wrong with you?"

"Medic! Call a medic right now!"

After a flurry of activity, a medic from the army rushed over and began to examine Albert's injuries.

"The upper arm bone is fractured, but fortunately it didn't puncture the skin. It needs immobilization and rest. How it goes next depends on the surgeon's own recovery."

The initial diagnosis brought a slight sense of relief to everyone—at least the seventh-ring mage wouldn't die on the spot.

John French strode up to Albert, and seeing his disheveled appearance, his unease grew stronger.

"Master Albert, what exactly happened? Where is Master Angus? And the others?"

Albert didn't answer immediately; he simply looked up at him with a cold, empty gaze that John French had never seen before.

“Marshal John French,” Albert’s voice was hoarse and deep, “I need you to immediately order the recall of all the Highland mages I haven’t been able to contact from the other fronts.”

“What?” John French was stunned. “Recall all the mages? Why? Now is the time when they are needed!”

“Because if we don’t evacuate, they’ll all die here,” Albert said, emphasizing each word.

“Angus had three other mages, but they have all fallen.”

"boom!"

This news struck John French like a bolt from the blue.

Inside the command center, an eerie silence instantly descended.

Everyone looked at Albert with disbelief.

Has Master Angus fallen?

That's a seventh-ring Arcane Mage!
Including the other three mages, a total of four highland mages were gone just like that?
“This can’t be!” John French exclaimed. “What happened? Was it the Saxon airships?”

“No, it’s not an airship.” Albert shook his head, a deep-seated hatred and fear flashing in his eyes.

"It was that 'mage killer,' we all fell into his trap."

He briefly recounted everything that had just happened.

When they heard how the Saxon captain used himself as bait to lure five highland mages into a street filled with magic crystal bombs, and then detonated the trap, everyone in the command center gasped.

"Marshal, I am now exercising the authority granted to me by the Highland Mage Corps and the Imperial Army in emergency situations."

Albert's voice was very serious, leaving no room for negotiation or bargaining.

"I will lead all the surviving mages to immediately evacuate Amiens and retreat to a safe rear. We cannot afford any more losses."

"No! Absolutely not!"

John French practically roared:

"You can't leave! If you leave, how can we fight this battle? How can we possibly hold Amiens!"

The expeditionary force was already at a significant disadvantage in terms of manpower, and it was only with the support of the Highland Mage Corps that it was able to barely maintain the front line.

If the mages were to retreat now, it would be like cutting off the fuel supply at the bottom of the cauldron, and the entire defense line would collapse instantly!

"beat?"

Albert gave a cold laugh, a laugh filled with self-mockery and sorrow:
"Marshal, haven't you seen it yet? This battle was doomed from the start!"

He pointed to the map, where the staff of the expeditionary force headquarters were constantly updating the enemy and friendly situation.

"Our forces are only a quarter of theirs! Our armored knights are almost no match for their armored knights equipped with some new type of weaponry! And they also have the air superiority provided by their armored airship!"

"Now, even we Highland Mages have become their prey! How many men have we lost in just one morning? This is the worst defeat the Highland Mage Corps has ever suffered since its founding!"

(End of this chapter)