"Great power? How powerful can something driven by steam be? Isn’t it just an air gun? I’ve seen those before, they’re good for shooting rabbits at best."
Hughes muttered softly, but this was not the right time to talk.
Seeing that the battlefield cleanup was almost complete, he instructed Alexei to lead the team back.
Many murlocs had escaped, but Ash led the Siren squad to harvest them.
The murlocs could barely run, they were nothing more than fish meat on a chopping board.
Hughes specifically ordered that a few be captured alive and sent to the Moths Chasing Fire.
Interrogating them might yield some useful information.
Alexei led the soldiers back.
This battle had shocked him too much.
They reached the designated position, loaded, fired, reloaded, fired again, and then, victory.
Had battle really become such a simple thing?
Alexei had always admired the knight commander at Her Majesty the Empress’s side.
That knight could lead a charge and scatter enemies several times their own numbers.
No one was his match in a duel.
Perhaps he alone could drive away a group of enemies, but could he lead a group of fresh recruits and win a battle as if on an outing?
A rifled musket and Minié ball could.
Alexei still had the curved blade Hughes had given him hanging at his waist.
But in the end, there was no chance to draw it.
Alexei had studied the latest combat tactics at the Royal Army Academy.
Yet, after experiencing his first real battle, he felt he was already outdated.
Technology was advancing faster than he could adapt.
This left him feeling out of place.
Alexei glanced at the ground covered with murloc corpses.
Well, at least his enemies were even more unprepared than he was.
And they no longer had the chance to adapt.
He took a deep breath and began issuing orders one by one.
After the battlefield was cleared, they would march back in formation.
His work was far from over.
He had to summarize the battle performance, organize the next stage of training, distribute rewards and punishments, and improve tactics.
For example, the drummers in the army, Alexei felt they were not very useful anymore.
The old mass musket fire tactic, where soldiers advanced in neat formations to the beat of the drum, was practically obsolete.
But what should replace it?
How should battles be fought in the future?
He had no clear idea yet.
He had just consulted Hughes about this.
Hughes had found it quite interesting and suggested establishing a position for a political officer dedicated to morale-boosting.
That actually made sense.
Previously, the drumbeat had been the source of soldiers’ morale.
If there were no drumbeats in the future, what would replace them?
These were things that would need to be explored slowly.
Alexei felt an endless energy surge through him.
The battlefield had become unfamiliar, but he was still young.
The infantry manual from the military academy had not yet become an unchangeable doctrine in his mind.
If there was something better, why not try it?
And if he developed a new tactic, maybe it would even bear his name,
The Alexei Formation.
Just thinking about it was exciting.
The soldiers were equally exhilarated.
They had just experienced their first battle and had won easily.
They were all islanders, unlike Alexei, they had no concerns about tradition.
They could fully embrace their victory.
There was no cheering, but their exchanged glances were filled with excitement and joy.
The way they looked at Hughes was gradually changing, turning to fanaticism, to worship.
On the other side, Hughes and Chloe made their way through the underground tunnel toward the warehouse where the steam rifles were stored.
Chloe’s description had piqued his curiosity.
Steam and rifles, two words that didn’t seem to belong together.
But there was no harm in taking a look.
A few Holy Guard soldiers stood watch at the entrance, visibly excited as they saluted Hughes.
Their faces were filled with anticipation.
"Don’t worry. We won the battle. Your comrades successfully repelled the murlocs."
Hughes smiled as he spoke.
"Is… is that so? That’s great! I really wanted to be on the battlefield, but I was on duty. Were they brave in battle?"
Hughes thought of the soldiers who had wet themselves in fear.
Of the ones trembling on the ground.
Of the unfortunate soul who overloaded his rifle and blew it up.
Of the ones who accidentally fired their cleaning rods.
And of the seventy-man volley that only managed to hit two targets.
"They were very brave. They lived up to the name of the Holy Guard."
Hughes spoke with solemnity.
The soldiers exchanged glances and then broke into smiles.
Under their admiring gazes, Hughes entered the warehouse.
Fear was a natural human instinct.
No one was born fearless.
Faced with explosions and enemies, even those soldiers who had wet themselves did not flee.
They truly deserved to be called brave.
Chloe glanced at the soldiers, then at Hughes.
She smiled, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked inside.
The warehouse was piled high with supplies brought in yesterday.
Ever since the strange changes in Castel, Hughes had been extremely cautious.
Until he fully understood the cost of using these things, he preferred to keep them sealed away for now.
Chloe led Hughes to a wooden crate.
When Connor had found the steam rifles, he had needed Chloe to identify what they were.
Even with decades of experience at Duke Cohen’s estate, Connor had failed to recognize them, proof of how rare steam rifles were.
"I’ve seen these before at the Mechanical Sanctum.
They don’t have supernatural beings there, but with their strange mechanical devices, even most supernatural beings struggle against their Mechanical Priests."
"Their Mechanical Priests, do they have mechanical parts all over their bodies? Gears and such?"
"Yes. Have you seen those lunatics before?"
I haven’t just seen them, I’ve even killed one.
Though… I was the one who got killed.
Hughes thought to himself.
"Would their priests ever wear the robes of the Church of Candlelight?"
"How could they? Are you crazy?"
Chloe gave him a baffled look.
"Nobody wears the robes of another church. That’s the gravest form of blasphemy.
If caught, they’d be executed on the spot."
Hughes glanced at her nun’s habit.
His eye twitched, but he said nothing.
"This is just a personal preference.
Look, here it is, the steam rifle."
She pulled a massive chunk of iron from the crate.
Her eyes sparkled as she lifted it, swinging it around for a better look.
"This thing is the Mechanical Sanctum’s prized treasure.
I tried so hard to get my hands on one before but never succeeded.
Can you give me a set?
Even if it pollutes me, just firing a few shots would be worth it."
Chloe’s eyes were filled with obsession as she looked at the steam rifle.
The barrel was forged from brass.
The gun body was steel.
The seams were connected with rivets.
Intricately arranged along its surface were steam pipes, burnished to a deep blue.
Transparent glass observation windows were embedded in the pipe walls, allowing the user to see the steam surging inside.