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

Soldiers from the West District, brought by Neos, also joined in to maintain order. After more than an hour of chaos, everyone had a loaf of bread and a dried fish in their hands. As they ate, their faces revealed a long-lost sense of contentment and hope.

Neos said, "After you have eaten your fill, please give me the leftovers so they don't go to waste. I will bring this food to my brothers and sisters in West City."

The crowd responded immediately, and soldiers and civilians spontaneously collected the remaining food in the square and streets, eventually filling twelve baskets.

Neos watched all this from a high place, but his heart was not filled with joy. He knew this was only a temporary reprieve; the threat of the plague still existed. The critically ill patients hiding in their homes were still untreated, and mosquitoes and fleas were still secretly spreading death. But at least, he had brought hope to the city and bought himself time.

Amid the kneeling worship of soldiers and civilians all over the city, Neos returned to the West City District with twelve baskets.

...

Back at headquarters, Neos removed his bishop's robes and sat wearily in a chair. His adjutant walked in and said with a smile, "You did it, Master. East City's morale has been restored."

Neos shook his head. "This is just the beginning. The plague is still spreading, and the army outside the city is still watching us. If they knew that the morale and fighting spirit in the city had been restored and there was food, what would the heretics do?

The food can only temporarily fill people's stomachs, but it cannot save the lives of the people in this city."

"But you've given them hope," the adjutant said. "That's more important than anything else. At least now they trust you and are willing to follow your lead."

Neos was silent for a moment, his mind reeling from Bishop Marburg's dying words. He stood up, walked to the window, and gazed at the distant flames of the East City District. "Inform everyone: Strengthen the quarantine of the East City District to prevent the spread of the plague. Also, expedite the expansion of the oil pipeline. We need more supplies and support."

"Yes, I'll do it right away." The adjutant saluted, and before leaving the room, he suddenly thought of something and asked:

"Master Mage, how much food did you take away that day? It was enough to feed hundreds of thousands of people?"

"everything."

The corners of Neos' eyes seemed to glow with a faint golden hue in the moonlight.

...

Five hours later, a sewer in a street in Xicheng District was filled with 〡尔〣林亻爾尔1 厁澪岜�?

"Om——"

Along with the pungent smell of sulfur pouring out from under the manhole cover, the sound of an engine roaring seemed to come from underground. A patrolling soldier curiously lifted the manhole cover:

"boom!!"

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

PS2: This chapter actually contains some biblical allusions ()

Rising Flames: 1914: Chapter 35: Tractor Cannon

Budapest's western sewers

The air was filled with a foul smell. The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly and watched every corner vigilantly.

"Boom boom boom!"

Something seemed to be drilling outside the wall. The experienced veteran guessed that it was the heretic's engineers. The heretics should be trying to blow up the sewer network at the outlet of the Danube and attack from underground.

"Quick! Tell the friendly forces above to send reinforcements! The heretics are about to attack!"

"boom!"

Suddenly, a loud explosion shattered the chaos in the sewers. An outlet in the pipe network was blown open, sending debris flying and filling the air with smoke. Immediately afterwards, soldiers from the Heretic Legion poured in like a tide.

"Da da da da da-"

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" a soldier shouted loudly, and his voice echoed in the narrow passage.

The defenders sprang into action, raising their rifles and aiming at the incoming enemies. The sounds of gunfire, shouts, and explosions intertwined.

"Call for reinforcements! We need support!" a sergeant shouted to the radio operator.

"This is the F03 defense line. The heretic legion is attacking from the pipeline exit. Requesting emergency reinforcements!" A hurried voice came from the radio.

At the headquarters, Neos was staring nervously at the map, while the staff around him were busy processing various intelligence reports. Suddenly, the voices of the sewer network defenders came over the rows of radios.

"Sir, the F03 sewer was attacked by the heretic legion, requesting reinforcements!" a communications soldier reported.

Neos frowned, he knew that the sewers were the vital point of the city. Once lost, the heretics could launch attacks all over the city - the consequences would be disastrous.

"Immediately dispatch the reserve forces to support the sewer defense line, and notify all blocks to increase vigilance!"

Meanwhile, the battle in the sewers intensified. The defenders bravely resisted the attacks of the heretic legions, but the enemy had the advantage in numbers and firepower.

"Bang!" "They're coming!" "Grenade--!"

"Brothers, hold on! For Neos, to defend Budapest!" a soldier shouted.

"Nyos is with us! We will never retreat!"

The soldiers kept shouting Neos' name, as if they could draw endless strength and courage from him. The veterans set up defensive positions and bunkers at every corner, and all the soldiers burst out with the most powerful will to resist.

Marburg had not previously rounded up the city's civilians, but had restricted their movement, believing that the presence of their loved ones would better inspire the soldiers' fighting spirit.

"Om-"

At that moment, a low rumble erupted from deep within the pipe network, and the ground began to shake slightly. The defenders looked at each other, a flicker of unease in their eyes.

"What's that sound?" a soldier asked in confusion.

"Sounds like... a landship?" another soldier guessed.

Before he finished speaking, a landship slowly emerged from the smoke. Its front armor was emblazoned with the symbol of the Lucifer Legion—the Morning Star. Where the tank gun once stood was a flamethrower, and the demonic head atop the turret screamed continuously.

"Landship————!" "Bomb! Where are the anti-landship grenades?!"

"Boom!" "Damn it! We can't blow it up, go get the martyrdom bomb!"

This tank had been specially modified, with its gun removed and replaced with a significantly strengthened front armor and a flamethrower. No weapon could penetrate its frontal armor, and its appearance put the defenders under unprecedented pressure.

"Quick, organize a suicide squad! We must stop it!" the sergeant ordered.

Several brave soldiers volunteered to form a suicide squad, holding martyrdom bombs with determination in their eyes.

"For Neos, for our home!" The suicide squad members shouted loudly and rushed towards the tank.

"For Neos, for our loved ones, we will never back down!" "Neos is with us!"

"Long live Neos!" Their shouts echoed in the sewers.

The flamethrowers on the landspeeders began to spew out hellish flames, and the flames swept over, instantly reducing the obstacles in front of them to ash. The members of the suicide squad, holding their shields and braving the flames, rushed towards the tank without hesitation.

"Boom!" With a loud bang, a member of the suicide squad detonated the martyrdom bomb on his body. The shock wave of the explosion broke the tank's tracks and part of the front armor was also destroyed.

However, the tank did not stop. It continued to move forward, and the flamethrower once again sprayed flames, engulfing the surrounding soldiers.

"Ah—[翏（一）棋衣II８卌肆俬—" Screams came one after another, and the soldiers struggled in the flames, but to no avail.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" the sergeant ordered loudly.

The defenders began to retreat in an orderly manner. Some soldiers took the initiative to detonate martyrdom bombs, collapsing some passages and buying time.

At the headquarters, messages requesting assistance from the commanders of each block fell on Neos's desk like snowflakes:

"Sewer C34 has fallen, the heretics have broken through the defenses, and the defenders have suffered heavy casualties!" "Several streets in the West City District have been attacked by the heretic legions, and support is urgently needed!" "The heretics have fought from underground to above ground, and Bristol Square is under the control of the heretics!"

Neos looked at the telegrams with a serious expression.

"Sir, what should we do?" a staff officer asked anxiously.

Neos took a deep breath, a look of determination flashing in his eyes. "Blow up all the sewer pipes in the western part of the city near the Danube River outlet to prevent the infiltration of the heretic armored forces!"

"But, sir, doing so will cut off part of our supply lines and some of the retreat routes planned in the defense plan," the staff officer reminded.

"I know, but this is the only way. We must stop the advance of the heretic legion, otherwise the entire city will be lost." Neos said firmly.

The staff officers looked at each other and finally nodded.

"According to your will!"

...

The sound of artillery outside the window never stopped, and the rattling of anti-aircraft machine guns on the roof and the whistling of heretic planes intertwined in Neos' ears.

He gazed through the shattered glass at the distant skyline of a city ravaged by war. The heretic landships—those steel monsters—had already advanced from the banks of the Danube. Budapest was bisected by the river, and the heretics were assaulting the defenders through the sewer network on both sides. Now, the city's mother river had become a slowly tightening noose.

"Bishop Neos, your orders have been distributed to all defense zones," the adjutant reported from the doorway. "We need sufficient anti-landship weapons. We don't have weapons capable of penetrating the frontal armor of the heretic flamethrower. We can only organize suicide squads to blast off its tracks."

Neos nodded, turned around and picked up the map on the table. "What's the situation at the arsenal in the city?"

"It's still functioning, but supplies are scarce. Workers have been working for 36 hours straight."

"I'm going to go check it out myself and see if I can get some effective equipment."

He knew that if he couldn't find effective weapons against the heretic landships quickly, Budapest's defenses would soon collapse. Although armored units suffered significant casualties in urban fighting, for ordinary infantry lacking anti-armor weapons, encountering such steel behemoths in urban combat was truly a hopeless situation.

The front line faced this terrifying monster - the kind that spewed fire, and they were able to organize wave after wave of death squads to face the flames of hell...

"What did our predecessors think when they faced this situation?"

...printed lacquer and enamel, with a 32-color Japanese enamel

The munitions factory, located in the eastern part of the city, was once Budapest's proud industrial center. Now, it has become the last hope. As Neos led his men into the factory, he saw workers bustling about—elderly men, women, and even some young boys. The war had taken too many prime men, and those who remained must shoulder the heavy responsibility of defending their homeland.

The factory manager, a gray-haired old engineer, came forward to greet them. "Bishop Neos, welcome."

"What's the situation?" Neos went straight to the point.

"We are working hard to produce ammunition and repair damaged weapons, but the moon/ripple-6 chess one child eight private silk thread X is..." The old engineer's voice dropped.

"but what?"

"Our conventional weapons are almost useless against the heretic landships. Those monsters are too armored."

Neos took a deep breath and looked around. "We need anti-tank weapons. Bazookas, anti-tank rockets—they're rocket-propelled artillery shells. Have you heard of them?"

The old engineer and several other experts looked at each other in confusion, shaking their heads. "Rocket...launch? I'm afraid we haven't heard of such a weapon, Your Excellency."

Neos forgot that in this era, many of the weapons he was familiar with had not yet been invented or popularized. He had to find a way with the existing resources.

"Show me all the equipment and weapons inventory in the factory," Neos ordered.

Twenty minutes later, Neos had walked through every corner of the factory. They had 86mm field guns, which performed well but had poor mobility; they had various light and heavy machine guns, but they were almost ineffective against landships; they had some explosives, but lacked an effective delivery method.

As Neos was lost in thought, a row of agricultural machinery in the factory's backyard caught his eye: a dozen crawler tractors, originally used for tilling the fields but now requisitioned to transport heavy objects and pull equipment.

A bold idea flashed through Neos' mind.

Although he cannot build tanks now, he can build self-propelled anti-tank guns!

“Those tractors, what’s their load capacity and maneuverability?” he asked, pointing to the row of machines.

"Pretty good," a mechanic replied. "They're designed to work on difficult terrain. The track system allows them to move flexibly even in muddy and narrow areas."

Neos' eyes lit up. "Move those 86mm field guns over here and put them next to the tractor."

The workers did as they were told, though they didn't understand the colonel's intention. When the heavy field gun was pushed next to the tractor, Neos stepped forward, his eyes darting back and forth between the two, as if performing some calculation in his mind.

"We can mount a field gun on a tractor," Neos suddenly announced, his voice thick with excitement, "creating a mobile anti-landship battery!"

The experts in the factory looked at each other in confusion.

"Your Excellency, with all due respect," the Chief Weapons Engineer stepped forward, "field artillery isn't used this way. Its trajectory is curved, requiring it to be fixed to the ground, stabilized by a bracket, and precisely calibrated..."

Neos interrupted him. "I know the conventional usage. But these are extraordinary times. The heretic landships have entered the city. Traditional field artillery deployment is too slow in the narrow streets and between buildings, and if their position is exposed, the artillery team will have no chance of survival."

"I don't deny that placing these medium-caliber artillery pieces in hidden corners can be used for ambushes, but after the ambush, they will become sitting ducks. Now that this city is under siege, it doesn't have the ability to produce artillery!"

He walked over to a tractor and patted its sturdy tracks. "But if we can create a weapons platform that can move quickly and hit and run, we can gain an advantage in urban fighting."

"It will serve as my fire brigade, a mobile artillery unit, ready to move wherever the defenses are about to collapse. The streets are full of bunkers now, and manpower alone is absolutely impossible to push."

The engineers began to whisper, some shook their heads, and some looked thoughtful.

"Get me some welding equipment," Neos ordered. "We don't have time—start refitting now!"

"But Bishop," the chief engineer said in surprise, "this—we need time to design it, calculate the center of gravity, and ensure the gun doesn't fall off or tip over after firing. We also need to solve the recoil problem..."

"We don't have that much time!" Neos raised his voice. "The heretics won't wait for us to design perfect blueprints. I want you to get started and make changes as you go."

"If it's prone to tipping over, just fire it straight at the enemy. The recoil—just weld it firmly and it'll be fine. I believe in you. Okay, on behalf of God, I bless you!"

The engineers looked embarrassed, but Neos's gaze made them dare not say anything more. Soon, welding equipment was brought in, and the workers began to follow Neos' instructions, trying to fix the field gun to the tractor platform.

An hour and a half into the work, problems arose one after another. The field gun was too heavy, and the tractor platform needed to be reinforced. There were serious recoil problems, with each shot threatening to tip the entire contraption over. The aiming system also needed recalibration...