Chapter 145
Chapter 145
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: Mage Corps Assault
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Pharon waved his hand.
At that signal, the twenty or so men standing on the castle battlements like a folding screen behind him floating in the air unleashed fireballs in unison.
Kanrak bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Dodge!”
“……!”
Jackal, who had taken out the three magic warriors and was charging toward Mongra, suddenly sensed a powerful presence.
He quickly stopped and looked up at the sky, where dozens of fireballs were raining down.
“Damn it!”
He snatched a shield from the ground and threw himself sideways.
Boom! Boom boom! KABOOM!
“Arrrgh!”
“Gaaah!”
In an instant, the area turned into a sea of flames, with massive casualties.
Barson, who had luckily dodged the fireballs, kept shouting.
“Form a defensive line!”
But the men were plunged into chaos, beyond any hope of control.
“Arrrgh!”
“Run!”
“Fall back inside the walls!”
Jackal, who had barely evaded the attack, glared up at the men on the battlements.
Unlike the foes he had faced before, these ones radiated raw power just by looking at them, making sweat seep from his hand gripping the dagger.
Especially the middle-aged man who seemed to be their leader—he exuded an aura that felt utterly untouchable.
‘Damn it, on par with Millerph... no, stronger.’
This was the absolute worst scenario.
Where had this horde of mages come from?
The Magic Tower?
Or the Emperor...?
A bolt of realization flashed through his mind.
The elite strike force known only to nobles of marquis rank or higher—the Mage Corps.
As soon as Jackal had emerged from the smithy, he had climbed the walls and scanned the territory for their base.
But he hadn’t found a trace of them anywhere—now he understood why.
They had concealed themselves with magic.
And since they were stronger than any knight order, there had been no need to send one along.
‘Who the hell sent them...?’
As Jackal’s eyes darkened, Barson blew the emergency horn three times in succession, signaling the dire situation.
The trumpet blasts echoed through Grada Castle, and the magic warriors, who had hesitated for a moment, resumed their rampage.
Stab! Slash—.
“You vermin! Die!”
“Gaaah!”
“Arrrgh!”
The screams of agony never ceased.
The guards and militia fought back with everything they had, but it was futile.
As despair gripped everyone and they began to collapse—
A group appeared before them.
Clad in simple protective gear, every one of them burly with coppery skin.
And with their fierce, glaring eyes, they were the smithy workers.
They had grabbed the guns Ban had made as soon as they heard the horn and rushed to the battlefield.
With practiced movements, they formed two ranks: the front row knelt to fire, the rear stood.
Tashar, the smithy’s vice overseer, shouted.
“Fire!”
Bang! Bang! Bang bang bang bang—!
With thunderous roars, the pellets fired from the guns hurtled toward the mages on the battlements.
Pharon sensed the danger from the unidentified objects streaking toward him like arrows and immediately raised a shield.
Boom!
The shield shattered.
‘What the hell!’
Pharon’s eyes widened in shock.
He dodged the non-magical threat and retreated behind the battlements.
His subordinates, who hadn’t defended, tumbled off the walls or collapsed atop them, screaming.
“Arrrgh!”
“It hurts! It hurts!”
Pharon quickly cast Group Heal on his men to treat them.
The sudden reversal left Mongra and the magic warriors baffled.
“What the hell are those?”
“Take out those guys first!”
At Mongra’s order, his subordinates charged the smithy workers.
Tashar called out calmly.
“Just like in training! Aim!”
The smithy crew’s muzzles trained on the magic warriors.
“Fire by rank!”
The front row men pulled their triggers.
Bang bang! Bang bang!
The rear row joined the assault next.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat bang!
The magic warriors tried to parry with their swords, but it was too fast.
Thwack!
“Gaaah!”
They collapsed mid-charge.
The bone-piercing agony made them writhe.
As their attacks missed, Mongra charged with full power.
“I’ll kill you all!”
Just as he swung his sword—
Jackal appeared.
“I’ll kill you first!”
Mongra twisted his sword’s arc toward Jackal.
Jackal dodged back and kicked off the ground, lunging forward.
“……!”
Mongra’s eyes bulged. Jackal had vanished in an instant.
He slashed wildly in all directions and raised a shield in preparation.
But he only cleaved empty air, with no reaction.
“Come out! Show yourself!”
As Mongra grimaced and roared—
Something cold and metallic pressed against his nape, followed by an unfamiliar voice in his ear.
“Who sent you?”
The voice was so devoid of emotion it sent chills down his spine.
“Damn!”
Mongra realized this was no opponent he could handle.
He scanned his surroundings, pondering his next move.
Bang! Bang bang!
The men with the strange weapons kept pressing the Mage Corps.
Pharon, expecting an immediate counterattack, simply watched silently behind his shield, unsure what was happening.
The battlefield’s momentum had flipped completely, cornering the magic warriors.
Individually superior, they were outnumbered, and the relentless attacks drained their mana rapidly between offense and defense.
At this rate, not only the magic warriors but the Mage Corps’ main force would suffer heavy losses.
‘What is he thinking...!’
Then he grasped Pharon’s intent.
Gathering intel on those bizarre weapons.
The Julius Count Family, currently at war with Marquis Mandora’s house, surely had them too.
Better to observe now, even at the cost of losses, than face them blind later as enemies.
Until Pharon’s intel collection ended, no rescue would come.
He’d end up dying like a hunted dog after all.
Bitterness welled up as something icy pierced his skin.
“Urk!”
Jackal slowly twisted the dagger deeper.
“Don’t want to talk? Then die. Plenty of others to ask if not you.”
Mongra scowled mockingly.
“No matter how much you struggle, nothing changes.”
“Does it?”
“You idiot.”
Mongra reversed his grip on his sword and plunged it into his own gut.
The blade burst out his back.
“What! You...!”
Jackal leaped back in alarm and slashed Mongra’s throat.
Truly ruthless to the end.
Still, he couldn’t fathom the Mage Corps’ reaction.
They should have counterattacked by now—yet nothing.
Despite mounting casualties, their leader remained silent.
And nearly all the magic warriors were down.
He didn’t know their game, but beating the Mage Corps was impossible.
Time to flee—now.
Jackal turned toward Barson’s voice.
Kanrak was just then staggering to his feet with his support.
“Fall back!”
“Fall back? We should press the advantage!”
Kanrak looked baffled, so Barson asked cautiously.
“As you see, the magic warriors are all down, and the mages aren’t counterattacking at all.”
“Face reality! They’re not unable—they’re choosing not to.”
“What do you...?”
Barson and Kanrak looked to the battlements.
The mages were shielding up, focused solely on defense.
Once a shield broke, another stepped forward to reform the wall.
Despite the opening to attack those waiting behind, they didn’t.
‘What?’
As Barson tilted his head, Kanrak studied the leader’s demeanor and grimaced.
“They’ll move soon! We have to go now!”
Barson grabbed him and demanded firmly.
“Why? Tell me the reason, or I can’t follow your lead.”
“They’re gathering intel on those weapons!”
“Gathering intel while taking losses like that? Ridiculous!”
“Far from it! When Young Master hears of this, he’ll demand revenge. Which is less damaging: facing us later with no intel on those weapons, or taking hits now to learn?”
“……!”
“Hurry! We escape before they move!”
Kanrak shouted at Babsep.
“Everyone to the underground!”
Babsep nodded and ordered the militia downward.
As the militia dashed inside the walls, the guards followed suit.
Tashar, grasping the shift, intensified the attack.
“Don’t stop firing!”
He gradually pulled back.
He knew they’d barely inflicted damage since the initial barrage.
And the enemies’ refusal to strike despite the chance felt off.
Like the eerie calm before a storm?
His comrades seemed to sense it too—their trigger pulls quickened.
“Damn! Pellets are running low!”
“We can’t cover everyone’s retreat!”
Tashar yelled at Barson and Kanrak, who were scanning instead of fleeing.
“What are you doing? Move!”
“Got it!”
Barson supported Kanrak and headed inside.
To buy time, Jackal climbed the battlements.
Tashar spotted Jackal racing up the stairs—and the mage at the entrance spotting him, beginning to cast.
A flame flickered to life in the mage’s palm.
“Eyes front!”
Tashar swung his muzzle to the casting mage.
Bang! Bang!
The mage canceled the spell, raised a shield, and defended. Jackal vanished again.
Moments later—
The mage at the entrance crumpled.
Jackal, now atop the battlements, charged the mages at full speed.
But they ignored him, fixated on incoming attacks.
‘These guys...?’
Jackal sensed something wrong.
A foreboding premonition hit as he realized their leader was gone.
“Damn!”
As Jackal scowled, intense heat bloomed overhead.
He snapped his head up.
A massive fireball, man-sized, hovered above a floating mage’s head.
“Damn it!”
Jackal hurled his dagger with all his might.
Whoosh—.
Gray aura-wreathed, it flew true.
“Pathetic.”
Pharon, monitoring everything, smirked coldly.
One hand steadied the fireball; the other raised a shield to block the dagger.
Then he glared at the men with strange weapons.
“Thanks to you, I know what those are. You’re useless now—die.”
He hurled the fireball with full force.
Fwoooom—.
It plummeted toward Tashar’s group at blinding speed, swelling larger.
The Mage Corps on the battlements cast Fly en masse and retreated far back.
Tashar and the men grimaced and shouted.
“Fire to the end!”
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat bang!
They poured shots at the house-sized inferno.
It engulfed them regardless.
KABOOM—!
Everything around shattered.
The ground quaked like an earthquake, a pillar of fire shooting to the castle tower’s peak.
“Perfect.”
Pharon smiled in satisfaction at his gathered subordinates.
“I’ll handle that one. Kill everything alive. No exceptions for the beasts the Julius Count Family raised.”
At his command, the Mage Corps scattered in all directions.
Pharon landed lightly on the battlements and eyed Jackal.
“Aren’t you Yarve Count’s dog?”
“Shut up.”
Jackal vanished. His fallen dagger followed.
“Arrogant cur.”
Pharon frowned.
As Jackal appeared in the 11 o’clock position in the air, stabbing downward—
Pharon thrust his arm toward him.
“Have you forgotten who I am?”
Whoosh—.
Flames roared to life, a massive blaze engulfing Jackal.