This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

"Hurry! Enter the city!!!" William waved his pistol and commanded the soldiers to advance.

Neos held his submachine gun, aimed at an elite heretic who was about to charge, and pulled the trigger. The bullet accurately hit the head in the other's hand, and the heretic screamed and fell in a pool of blood.

"we are coming!!"

The soldiers in the city quickly cut through the barbed wire and, holding up their shields, led the rushing squad into their own trenches.

"Thank you! Thank God!! We are saved!"

Looking at the exhausted militiamen in front of him, Neos did not refute.

He gasped and looked around, only to see the battlefield behind him littered with corpses, blood staining the soil red, and the air thick with the smell of blood. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, but he felt no sense of relief.

It is pure fantasy to want to open a gap with the power of a regiment, and make the gap big enough so that more than 400,000 elite soldiers and millions of civilians in the city can be evacuated under the noses of the heretics.

Unless God wears fins? Sanlongsi Jiufin Shanshi Mi Steel Helmet personally participated in the battle.

The only mission of their team is to send Neos in, let him mobilize his power, restore the health of more than 400,000 elite troops in the city, and then fight their way out together!

PS: 240 votes, next update 4.5k...

Flames Rising: 1914: The Emperor asked me to sit on the toilet for a while and post it later

As the title says, since Xue Beizhai's son eats steak and drinks milk beer (sure), the egg on the teppanyaki steak noodles in the cafeteria seemed not to be cooked, and the egg seemed unlikely to be a sterilized egg, so he started to run around.

I'm going to squat on the toilet for a while, and will update later.

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh

Flames Rising: 1914: Chapter 32: This is the Wisdom of Mortals

Budapest, a city once known for its magnificent architecture and bustling streets, is now unrecognizable.

On the streets, the once neat roads had been transformed into lines of defense by a variety of debris. Sandbags, broken furniture, abandoned cars and carriages were piled up haphazardly to form crude shelters.

Leaning against these bunkers were exhausted Crusaders. Their uniforms were disheveled and dirty, covered in dust and blood, their faces etched with exhaustion and hunger. Civilians sat slumped on the ground, their faces pale and emaciated, their eyes hollow.

It started snowing.

"It's so cold."

"The ice on the Danube River still shows no signs of melting. The temperature dropped to almost minus 20 degrees Celsius last night, and many people froze to death." The officer who led them forward said softly.

The whole city was shrouded in a dead silence. There was almost no human voice in the streets and houses filled with soldiers. Only the occasional sound of artillery fire and the whistling of the cold wind could be heard.

Neos exhaled deeply. He turned to the tall but equally gaunt general beside him and asked:

"How many days' worth of food do you have left? What about fuel?"

The officer shook his head, his voice low and hoarse: "Only the Bishop of Marburg and a few officials in charge of the warehouse know the exact number, but I estimate that there are not many left."

"Why do you say that?" Neos asked, frowning.

"Because even if reinforcements arrive, we have to prepare to break out." The general sighed, "But we didn't get any more bread. Perhaps this is our last meal - probably."

Neos fell silent. He could sense the powerlessness and despair in his general's words. Even when speaking to the Saint, the general seemed powerless. The defenders of Budapest had clearly reached their most critical moment.

"Woo——————"

Suddenly, overhead, a shrill wailing of air raid sirens pierced the silent sky. The Heretic Legion's planes were approaching.

The soldiers, upon hearing the noise, began to disperse and take cover. However, due to a severe lack of supplies, their movements were slow, as if they lacked the strength to run. There were few remaining chairs in the bar. Neos witnessed one soldier, starving, holding onto the wall, slowly lowering his gun, walking to the edge of the bunker, and lying on the ground.

His eyes were wide open, his clear blue eyes looking at the sky, his mouth was weakly open, and only the slight rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.

“Da da da——” “Bang! Bang!”

The anti-aircraft batteries stationed on the rooftops opened fire, sending dozens of flames blazing towards the circling heretic aircraft. Several planes were struck mid-air, exploding into balls of fire, sending debris and smoke drifting on the wind. Immediately afterwards, countless leaflets rained down from the sky like snowflakes, slowly landing in every corner of the city.

The leaflets that fell like a shower of flowers were crudely printed with words in various languages. Perhaps considering the complexity of the Hungarian language, the Heretic Legion had specially prepared a multilingual surrender notice. Seeing no bombs were falling, the soldiers and civilians hiding in the bunkers slowly emerged, taking the falling leaflets amid the lingering sound of air raid sirens.

Neos bent down and picked up a flyer with a disturbing illustration on it:

A group of skeleton-like soldiers knelt before a giant demon. The demon's eyes flashed an evil red light, and a cruel smile played on the corners of its mouth. Below the picture, in bright red letters, it was written:

"Poor souls, you have been forsaken by God!

Look at your situation - hunger, disease, despair.

And where is your so-called 'God'?

Surrender and join us.

In hell, at least you won't starve."

Some soldiers looked on indifferently, expressionlessly crumpling the leaflets into their sleeves to keep warm; others showed despair on their faces, with fear in their eyes. The priests came silently, took the leaflets from the soldiers, piled them together, and lit them to use as fuel for heating.

The firelight reflected on their tired faces, revealing confusion and helplessness.

The soldiers slowly walked towards the barricade, leaned against the sandbags, and continued to wait for their unknown fate. But a few soldiers had completely given up hope. They picked up their guns, pointed them at their heads, and prepared to end it all.

"Those who commit suicide cannot go to heaven." A priest came forward and said softly,

"If you want to get away from this, grab your guns, inject yourself with martyrdom potion, and get out of town."

The soldiers hesitated for a moment, some of them slowly lowered their guns and returned to their bunkers, a flicker of struggle and pain in their eyes. But one of them pulled an injection from the field doctor's waist bag and injected it into his arm without hesitation.

After a while, the soldier's body began to change. His tired eyes became bright, his pupils dilated, the corners of his mouth crooked, his eyes bloodshot, and the veins in his neck bulged, as if endless power was surging within him!

He easily picked up the rifle on the ground, walked quickly to the bunker, put on his equipment and helmet, then quickly walked to the general in front of Neos and laughed crazily: "I... I saw it... I saw the Kingdom of the Lord waving at me... I - hehe!"

He jumped over the barricades one after another, accidentally knocking to the ground halfway, his teeth knocked out, and his face was covered in blood, but he continued to run out of the city without caring. His laughter echoed in the empty streets, which was particularly harsh.

"Crash--" The soldiers hiding in the bunkers around watched the scene coldly.

The veterans might be able to endure this, having faced countless such situations over the years of war, but the civilians in the city couldn't. As the soldier chose to inject the martyrdom potion, more and more civilians emerged from their homes, injected themselves, and silently walked out of the city, their guns slung over their shoulders.

Several of the new recruits also wanted to leave, but were stopped by veterans and officers.

"You can't go!" an officer said sternly, "You still have a responsibility to hold on!"

"How much can they eat in a day?" "Less than 150 grams."

Neos stood aside, witnessing all this, feeling an indescribable pain in his heart.

Although his abilities were powerful and he could kill countless Warp Demons, summon small suns, and create weapons out of thin air, he could not directly solve the current food crisis.

He couldn't conjure bread and fish out of thin air. After all, he was not Jesus and could not immediately relieve these people's hunger and despair.

"Master Neos, please come back to the command center with me. Bishop Marburg is waiting for you." The general sighed, blocked Neos's sight, and took him to the command post.

Neos nodded silently and followed the general through the dilapidated streets.

----------

The command center is not a church. After all, the heretics' heavy artillery will not be blocked by trenches. Now the low town hall has been transformed into a temporary military command center.

The building's exterior was riddled with bullet holes, and the glass in the windows had long since shattered, leaving only the hollow frames. Neos and the officer passed through the heavily guarded gate and into the dimly lit hall.

Inside the hall, maps and documents were scattered across the floor, and several officers were discussing something in low voices. An elderly man in a black robe stood before a large map, his brow furrowed.

"Master Neos, welcome to Budapest."

Bishop Marburg turned around and said in a hoarse and low voice, "I hope your arrival can bring us a glimmer of hope."

Neos bowed slightly and responded, "Your Excellency, I will do my best. But I must understand the current situation. How much food reserves do we have?"

The bishop was silent for a moment, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes:

"Our food reserves are running low, and can only last for a day and a half at most. Moreover, the Danube River outside the city is frozen - the temperature outside will freeze any water, and we are short of fuel. We don't even have the fuel to melt the ice!

The heretic legion's siege is getting tighter and tighter, and their artillery fire is constantly bombarding our defenses."

"The Pope hopes that I can use my abilities to help you," Neos said.

"But my abilities aren't omnipotent. I can fight against the supernatural forces of Hell, but I can't create bread and milk directly. Perhaps there's some scientific technology that can make bread from air and water, but obviously I don't know how it works."

Bishop Marburg nodded and said solemnly, "I understand. But your arrival itself is a kind of hope. Perhaps you can inspire the soldiers' fighting spirit and cheer them up again."

"Cheer up? If it's just for cheering up, I think your potion can completely replace me. If the potion you give to civilians can be used multiple times-"

Before he could finish, the Bishop of Marburg waved his hand and interrupted him:

"Don't think about that. The drug is a mixture of OxyContin, Codeine, Morphium, and its diacetyl compound." (Sensitive words don't allow common names, so Bei Zhai can only use the original name)

"Ah? Ice? Er Yi Shan Wu 7` Pull the slip er_&帬"

"It takes effect in five minutes. Even if you're in hell, this potion can pull you back to heaven. It can even make your arms feel painless even if they're torn apart by machine gunfire. It's like the power of God descending upon you. I even saw a pilgrim injected with this stuff rush towards the Demon Knight with a martyrdom bomb, without any protective equipment.

But it only works for three hours, and when the effect wears off..."

"What will happen after it's over? It will probably be addictive." Neos guessed after hearing the horrifying content.

"Addicted? When the church tested this thing, all the subjects who survived until the drug's effects wore off committed suicide. Even if we tied them to a pillar, they would still choose to bite off their tongues.

It is precisely the properties of this drug that make it very suitable for combat personnel to use it to perform some difficult tasks without leaking our intelligence."

"What a fucking world."

Neos pondered for a moment, then suddenly had an idea: "Your Excellency, the Danube River runs through Budapest. Why don't you have your allies in the rear transport supplies into the city by water? Underwater is also an option, right? Or how about air?"

Marburg nodded. "That's what we did before, using airships, boats, and frogmen to bring in food, but now the Danube is frozen. The heretic machine guns have blocked the entire river."

Our Holy Roman Empire is vast and rich in resources. There is no shortage of food in the rear. What we lack now is the means to deliver the food here.

Initially, airdrops were used. This was a good method. The Vienna-based air brigade delivered over a thousand tons of food and medical supplies to Budapest within a month. However, this amount of food could not meet everyone's needs. The airships capable of transporting large quantities of supplies were too cumbersome, and the heretical anti-aircraft artillery prevented the airships from approaching the city. Another solution was needed.

Before the war, a passenger waterway existed on the Danube River, which ran through Budapest. After the heretics laid siege to Budapest, they were well aware of the importance of this waterway to the city. However, the heretic legions had traveled thousands of miles, fighting on an away field. The weapons they brought were primarily for siege purposes, and they were unable to fully cover the Danube.

This gave the bishop stationed in Vienna an opportunity.

The bishop of Vienna collected the grain from various regions and loaded it onto small boats on the waterways, sealing them so that most of their volume remained underwater. The Danube River flows from west to east, and the current carried these submerged grain "boats" into the city. This brilliant strategy by the bishop of Vienna delivered 1800 tons of various supplies to the city before the heretics noticed.

As a result, after the encirclement of the heretics closed in, they also deployed patrol boats on the Danube River, and the night transport tactic failed. To prevent the defenders from transporting food underwater, the heretics set up a dense network of various nets to block the Danube River.

What was the Bishop of Vienna to do? He had no choice but to send in his frogmen, who would cut through the nets at night and haul in as much food as they could. They would even anchor the grain to the riverbed, allowing them to push the food forward simply by cutting through a section of the net.

The heretic legion subsequently increased the intensity of its night patrols, and many frogman troops were shot by machine guns and sank to the bottom of the river before they could swim far.

When the Holy Roman Emperor heard about this, he said, "Keep shipping. Let's see whether we have more food or the heretics' artillery shells!"

Even so, the transport continued, and every day the defenders of Budapest had to fish out the life-saving food from the bloody water. The heretics deliberately did not clean up the area, allowing the bodies of the Crusaders to clog the interception nets, breeding bacteria and preventing the defenders from obtaining clean fresh water from the Danube.

"Can it be transported on ice? Is the ice thick enough for us to form a commando team?"

Budapest is at the same latitude as Stalingrad.

"No, the ice isn't thick enough. Normally, the Danube never freezes completely, and the ice in our section is only a few centimeters thick. Cars can't drive on the ice, but horse-drawn sleighs might be able to.

But the heretics have driven barbed wire and wooden stakes into the ice, threatening to shatter it if our sleds attempt to break through. As of today, over four hundred cavalrymen have been killed. Meanwhile, only 80 tons of food have been delivered to the city, insufficient to alleviate its pressing needs.

"What about the fuel? How much is left in the city?"

"The vegetation had long been cut down, the furniture had almost been burned, and even the oil pipelines were frozen. Budapest is an industrial city with many refineries, and finished diesel is shipped directly to the rear through pipelines. But the problem is that at these temperatures, the diesel will freeze."

"etc?!"

Neos suddenly had an idea:

"You mean, there's a pipe leading to the back, right? Even if it's frozen, a person could crawl through it after it thaws, right?"

Bishop Marburg raised his eyebrows and asked his adjutant to call the technical staff. Within a few minutes, several technical priests came to Neos.

"In theory, it is possible," the tech-priest explained.

"But we have to climb over a hundred kilometers of pipeline to Bratislava (the former capital of Slovakia) to reach the exit. Even if we melt the diesel in the pipeline and remove it, the oil and gas inside the pipeline will not allow the soldiers to breathe. There is no equipment that can drive such a long breathing tube to support the soldiers to breathe for several days in the narrow pipeline."

"Let me see—over 140 kilometers... Can you give me an estimate of how long it will take to climb? I think I can do it—my spell can maintain oxygen for about a day, so wearing an oxygen tank should be enough!"

Neos snapped his fingers. Although his power in the mortal world was not as omnipotent as in the warp, it was still possible to get some fresh air.

"How do we transport it? Human power is absolutely impossible. Using a rope? We don't have steel cables hundreds of kilometers long! And how heavy is a steel cable over a hundred kilometers long? Even if you could carry it into the pipeline, what machine could overcome such great friction and pull the rope without breaking it?"

"Fuck!"

Neos gritted his teeth and cursed.

"We've considered every possible solution, Master. The wise men and advisors within the city have already done everything they can. We've done our best and leave the rest to fate. Chapter Master Ogsger said you have special powers that can shield you from the influence of Hell and dispel the plague?"

"Yes, Bishop Marburg, what should I do?"