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

"This simply won't work!" A senior artillery expert finally couldn't help but speak out. "Your Excellency, I understand your urgency, but with such a crude installation, the shells won't hit the target at all. Field artillery requires time to calibrate errors, and a stable platform is required..."

Neos paused his work and wiped the sweat from his brow. Everyone in the factory held their breath, waiting for his reaction.

"Tell me," Neos asked calmly, "Can you guarantee a hit on the heretic landship within 250 meters? 1-year-old father Si VIIl Liu"

The expert was stunned for a moment.

"This is street fighting," Neos continued.

"Most engagements are within fifty meters. I don't need this gun to be able to hit targets one or two kilometers away. I just need it to be able to deliver a fatal blow to the side or tracks of a landship at close range, and then immediately move to another position instead of becoming a target for heretics!"

"Can you do two hundred and fifty meters? Give me a definite answer, that landspeeder is almost ten meters long!"

The experts were silent and exchanged glances with each other.

"From this perspective..." The chief engineer nodded slowly, "perhaps it is indeed feasible. In close combat, accuracy is less critical, and mobility becomes the key to survival."

"Also," another expert added, "we can install a simple hydraulic system to alleviate some of the recoil, and then use steel cables to secure the gun barrel..."

The discussion grew heated, and the engineers began proposing various improvements. Neos watched them, a faint smile playing on his lips. A spark of hope had been ignited.

"Then keep working," he said. "I want to see the first batch of modified mobile artillery batteries within three hours."

In the following days, the workers were divided into several groups and modified the tractor under the guidance of experts. Some were responsible for strengthening the platform, some designed a simple hydraulic buffer system, some modified the fixing device of the gun body, and some tried to simplify the aiming mechanism to make it suitable for rapid combat.

Neos barely rested, shuttling between work groups, solving problems and boosting morale. He also had to constantly monitor the battle situation and deploy support based on changes on the front lines. When the first rays of dawn shone through the broken factory windows, the first "tractor gun" had already taken shape.

It looks rough and weird—

A majestic 86mm field gun was securely mounted on the platform of a farm tractor. To balance the weight, workers added a counterweight to the rear of the tractor. Several soldiers stood in a large steel basket, serving both as counterweight and protection. To mitigate recoil, they designed a simple hydraulic buffer system. To protect the operator, they constructed a simple protective shield made of steel plates.

"Test fire," Neos ordered, "drive to the test range in the backyard."

Under the gaze of the crowd, this bizarre weapon was driven into the testing grounds. An experienced gunner climbed onto the platform and carefully operated the gun barrel. Several soldiers stood in the weighted basket, nervously staring at the muzzle. The target was a thick brick wall 100 meters away. Behind the wall was a pile of scrap steel, simulating the armor of the heretic landspeeder.

"Ready...launch!"

A tremendous roar echoed through the factory, and flames erupted from the gun's muzzle. The tractor shook violently, but it didn't tip over—the hydraulics and counterweights had worked. When the smoke cleared, everyone saw the result: a gaping hole in the brick wall, scattering rubble.

Cheers erupted in the factory.

"It works! It fired without flipping over! No loosening, no explosions, no flameouts—we're lucky!" the chief engineer exclaimed excitedly. "It still needs some work, but the basic principle works!"

Neos nodded, a long-lost smile finally breaking out on his face. "Continue to modify the remaining tractors. I want to assemble a mobile artillery unit within three hours."

When the last tractor was finished, Neos stood in the factory yard, facing these dozen or so strange war machines. They were lined up in a row, their barrels gleaming with a cold metallic luster, and the mud on their tracks had not yet been completely cleaned, reminding people of their original identity.

An idea suddenly struck Neos. He walked over to the first tractor, reached out, and gently stroked its rough steel surface. Then, he walked over to each machine in turn, touching them in the same way, as if performing some kind of ritual.

Everyone in the factory fell silent and watched this scene.

Finally, Neos stood in front of this row of "tractor cannons", took a deep breath, and bowed solemnly.

"Please!" His voice was firm yet pleading. "Please work normally and kill the enemy well, otherwise we will only pay with our lives! After this battle, I will treat you with the best engine oil!"

"—Don't just stand there and watch, bow with me!"

At this moment, the atmosphere in the factory became extremely solemn. Workers, engineers, and even soldiers who came to assist, all spontaneously bowed to these weapons converted from tractors.

At this moment, a connection beyond common sense seems to have been formed between humans and machines - they are no longer just cold steel, but the hope of everyone in Budapest.

Neos stood up and looked around. He saw the tired but determined eyes of the workers, the proud but worried expressions of the engineers, and the still beating pulse of this besieged city.

"Go!" he said, his voice calm but powerful. "Now, we will show the heretics the will of Budapest!"

As Neos walked out of the factory gates, he heard the rumble of artillery fire in the distance. Heretic landships were approaching the city center. But this time, Budapest had weapons ready to fight back.

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

Rising Flames: 1914: Chapter 36: Not a Step Back!

The air was filled with smoke and blood. The Danube ice glowed an eerie red in the morning light, as if foreshadowing that more blood would flow into this ancient river that day.

While the experts were still welding the tractor cannon, the heretic's attack continued.

Neos stood on a truck at the military factory, gazing at the black smoke rising from the banks of the Danube. The battle for the sewers in the western city had lasted all night, and the heretic army's attack had been stubbornly resisted, but this was only the beginning of the war.

"Your Excellency!" a signalman rushed in. "The heretics have changed their strategy! They've seized the sewer network and occupied positions along the Danube. They're now gathering landing troops on the riverbank, and a large number of landships are entering the city from the pontoon bridge!"

"Can the artillery hit the target? Are all the firing parameters adjusted correctly?"

"It's difficult - there are too many buildings, and many artillery shells are blocked by the buildings!"

Neos's brow furrowed. He had expected the heretics to change their tactics, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

"Notify all block commanders to prepare for a ground armored assault." His voice was calm and firm, "Have commanders at all levels take the initiative and find every possible way to pry open that damn tin can!

I don't care how blasphemous or unreasonable this method is, as long as it can knock down that damn tank for me, it's a good method!"

"Yes, Your Excellency!" The signalman saluted and left quickly.

Neos turned to the city map on the wall, his fingers lingering over several key points in the western district. "Want a quick victory? Do you think this big city is the Hungarian plain? And you're planning to rush through Budapest in an hour and 22 minutes, sprinting through the streets? You're kidding! I must show you what a war quagmire is!"

...

On the west bank of the Danube, the Heretic Legion's "Hell's Claw" landships lined up in a long line, waiting to board the pontoon bridge. The Morning Star symbol was emblazoned on the turrets of these steel monsters, and their tracks left deep marks on the ground.

"Forward! For the glory of Lucifer!" The heretic commander's voice echoed along the riverbank through the loudspeaker.

The first tank slowly rolled onto the pontoon bridge, the sound of metal rubbing against metal harsh and sharp. Close behind were infantry phalanxes and towed artillery pieces, the armor of the elite heretic soldiers gleaming ominously in the morning light.

Just then, the roar of an engine was heard in the sky.

"Air raid! Crusader planes!"

Crusader fighters, arriving from Vienna, swooped down, their bombs whistling down on the assembled heretic forces on the riverbank. Explosions continued, and several tanks that hadn't yet reached the bridge had their tracks blown off or even exploded, sending thick smoke billowing into the air.

"Anti-aircraft fire! Shoot them down!" the heretic commander roared.

Anti-aircraft guns on the ground immediately opened fire, and the Hell Wizards continued to cast spells, weaving a deadly web of bullets in the air. Several Crusader fighters were hit and fell on the Danube ice, trailing black smoke, but more planes broke through the defense line and continued to bomb the pontoon bridge and the assembly point on the shore.

Despite this, the heretic landing operation did not stop. Dozens of landships had already sailed across the pontoon bridge and into the streets of Budapest.

"They're coming! Landships! At least twenty of them!" a Crusader sentry shouted from his observation point on the corner of the street.

The Crusaders on the streets quickly took up their positions, hiding behind makeshift barricades, weapons clutched tightly in their hands. Fear and determination were written on every face—they had almost no effective anti-tank weapons.

"Keep calm! Aim for the seam between the tracks and the side armor!" a sergeant major shouted. "Remember what we taught you in training: don't run toward the front of the landspeeder!"

The first Hell Land Cruiser appeared at the corner of the street. Its huge body occupied almost half the width of the street. The turret slowly rotated, and the screaming demon head on the top opened its eyes wide, looking for its target.

"Wait until it gets closer!" The sergeant once again ordered the Crusaders to fasten their iron peaked hats to avoid being affected by the blasphemous chant. He lowered his voice and ordered, "Prepare..."

The landship passed a hidden manhole cover and suddenly...

"boom!"

There was a deafening explosion as the explosives buried under the manhole cover were detonated, breaking the tank's tracks, but the armor protected its main body. The landspeeder stopped in place, its turret still rotating.

"Now! Attack!"

Crusader soldiers rushed out from behind various bunkers, holding martyrdom bombs and charging towards the paralyzed tank. The heretic soldiers following the tank immediately opened fire, and bullets rained down, and several charging soldiers fell to the ground.

"Cover! Cover them!" the sergeant shouted, raising his light machine gun and firing at the heretic infantry around the tank.

A young Crusader, holding a martyrdom bomb, rushed to the side of the tank under the cover of his comrades. With a determined light in his eyes, he recited the prayer: "Neos is with me..."

"boom!"

There was another loud bang, and a large hole was blown in the side armor of the tank, with black smoke billowing out. The young soldier's figure disappeared in the explosion, but his sacrifice was not in vain - the tank was completely paralyzed.

However, more tanks were coming.

"Retreat to the bunker! Prepare for the next wave of attack!" ordered the sergeant major, but only a few people responded to him.

The fighting on the streets was just a microcosm of the battles that were unfolding throughout Budapest. In every street and square, the Crusaders were fighting with flesh and blood against the steel monsters.

On the other side of the city, at the position of the 177th Anti-Aircraft Regiment, young women were busy operating anti-aircraft guns. Most of them were students, teachers, factory workers and nuns from Budapest who had volunteered to join the crusade after the outbreak of war.

"Enemy plane! Three o'clock!" an observer shouted.

"Turn! Prepare to fire!" ordered the regimental commander, a middle-aged priest who had taught at a military academy.

The 75mm anti-aircraft gun quickly adjusted its angle and aimed at the approaching heretic bomber.

"shooting!"

Shells whistled out and exploded in the air, forming a barrage of bullets. A heretic bomber was hit on the wing and staggered towards the ground.

"Hit! Keep shooting!" the regiment commander encouraged loudly.

At this moment, a signalman came running over: "Commander! The south urgently needs fire support! The heretic tanks are breaking through the defense line!"

The regimental commander hesitated for a moment. She knew that the main task of the anti-aircraft artillery was to protect the city from air raids, but the situation of the ground troops was more critical at the moment.

"Everyone, attention!" She made the decision. "The first, third, and fifth artillery groups will continue their air defense missions. The remaining artillery groups will adjust their guns to maximum depression and prepare to fire at ground targets!"

"But commander, we have not received any training in ground fire!" said a young gunner worriedly.

"Remember the basic principles," the commander replied firmly, "Aim, calibrate, and fire. We are defending our homeland. There will be no second chances!"

The anti-aircraft gun was adjusted to a depressed angle, its muzzle aimed at the heretic tank on the street below.

"Target locked!"

"shooting!"

The 75mm shell directly hit the top armor of a tank, where the armor was weakest. The top of the tank was instantly penetrated, and the ammunition inside exploded in a chain reaction, turning the entire tank into a ball of blazing molten lava.

"Hit!" the gun crew cheered.

"Keep shooting! Don't stop!" the commander ordered, with the flames of battle flashing in his eyes.

Soon, the 177th Air Defense Regiment's victory spread throughout the city via radio. Neos immediately issued an order via radio:

"Attention all air defense units! While maintaining basic air defense capabilities, shift some of your firepower to ground support. Focus on attacking enemy tanks and armored clusters! Keep your anti-aircraft guns level and blast those little bastards to death!"

Asmodeus, the leader of the heretic army, stood on the top floor of an occupied building, observing the battlefield through magic. When he saw his landship destroyed by anti-aircraft artillery, his face turned extremely grim.

"Damn the Crusaders!" he roared. "Mobilize the artillery witches and destroy those anti-aircraft positions!"

Artillery Witches, elite units capable of summoning bombs from Hell's Factory out of thin air, were too good to be used in urban combat. Their eyes flashed ominously. Upon receiving the order, they immediately took action, dispersing to various commanding heights.

PS: According to the setting, the Cannon Witch is actually a man-made creature.

An artillery witch climbed atop a half-destroyed apartment building and, from high above, locked onto a position in the 177th Air Defense Regiment. She began chanting a spell, her hands drawing strange symbols in the air.

"Flames from the furnace of hell, descend!"

A twisted vortex appeared in the air, and a huge bomb emerged from it, heading straight for the air defense position.

However, just as the bomb was about to fall, a crisp gunshot interrupted the rhythm of the spell. The Cannon Witch's head exploded, and her body stood stiffly for a few seconds before collapsing heavily. The bomb also lost its aim and exploded on the ground.

On the top floor of a building opposite, a sniper priest in a black robe slowly lowered his sniper rifle and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

"In the name of Neos," he whispered.

Similar scenes played out throughout the city. The Crusaders' elite snipers and priests specifically hunted down the heretical artillery witches and commanders, attempting to cut off the heretical legion's chain of command.

Bishop Neos saw the effectiveness of anti-aircraft guns against ground targets and decided to seize the opportunity.

"Attention, all units," he ordered over the radio. "While the heretics are blocked, launch an immediate counterattack! Retake the lost ground! To defend Budapest!"

The Crusader commanders in each block quickly organized their troops, rushed out from basements, buildings and barricades, and launched a fierce attack on the areas occupied by heretics.

"Forward! Don't be afraid! Neos is with us!" A company commander shouted, leading the soldiers to charge towards the enemy camp.

The battle was fierce. Crusaders, relying on buildings and barricades, engaged in close combat with the heretic legions. Every building, every room, even every staircase became a focal point of contention.

However, the heretic legions responded quickly, with large numbers of bombers flying in from afar, carpet-bombing the Crusaders' positions and counterattack forces.

"Cover! Airstrike!"

Explosions rang out one after another, buildings collapsed, dust flew up, and many Crusaders who were counterattacking were buried under the rubble.

At the same time, heavy artillery in the rear of the heretics began to bombard the Crusaders' assembly points and command posts. The whole of Budapest seemed to be engulfed in flames.

Neos looked at the black smoke and flames above the city, his heart aching. But he knew that he couldn't waver at this moment.

"Continue the counterattack!" he ordered. "This is only the first day! We can't give up one-fifth of Xicheng District!"