The Toulon Gate (1)
There wasn't much preparation required before entering the Toulon Gate. I already had all my equipment sorted, and for Jeanne, ordinary armor was practically meaningless. Her holy power's regenerative abilities and protective force far surpassed anything physical defenses could offer.
I watched Jeanne tie a strip of cloth to a small iron rod and asked, “Jeanne, what’s that?”
“It’s a flag. It feels more natural to me than going in empty-handed.”
A flag created by Saintess Jeanne d’Arc.
So this is how it turns out. It was nothing more than cloth tied to a rod, yet the moment Jeanne held it, the thing became a holy relic. Of course, it was only a holy relic because she was the one holding it. In anyone else’s hands it would have been nothing but an ordinary scrap of fabric. It was completely different from the Saintess’s flag of the past, which had demanded sacrifice as its foundation. This was simply something that had grown familiar in Jeanne’s grip, shaped into this form because of it.
“All done?”
“Yes. I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.”
Once Jeanne’s flag was finished, we stepped straight into the Toulon Gate.
Entering the Toulon Gate.
A cool sea breeze brushed past us. The refreshing sea of Toulon Port filled my entire field of vision.
It’s been a while.
Not much time had passed in reality, but the memories from Toulon came back to me with a faint, nostalgic ache. So much had happened since then—helping Yi Sun-sin, meeting Jeanne, and everything that followed.
For a moment, it felt like I could hear a stern male voice whispering like a phantom in my ear.
The first transcendent I had ever met. The person who awakened my ability.
Napoleon.
To me, the name carried far more meaning than simply belonging to a historical figure. If I had never met him, I might still be scraping by as an E-class Hunter even now.
I miss him.
We would never meet again, yet the sight of Toulon Port suddenly brought Napoleon to mind.
You have entered Toulon Port.
This is a battlefield steeped in the myth of France’s revolutionary hero, Napoleon.
Napoleon’s Rifle efficiency has increased by 80%.
Accuracy has increased by 90%.
Battlefield Charisma has been unlocked.
Battlefield Charisma
Napoleon, the revolutionary hero of France, intoxicated the people with visions of military glory. Those who stand with him on the battlefield shall know no fear of death.
So it’s a courage buff.
I was still processing the new trait when Jeanne spoke.
“Who is Napoleon?”
She must have seen the status windows too; her expression was full of curiosity. To Jeanne, who had lived in the fifteenth century, a figure from the eighteenth century like Napoleon was completely unfamiliar.
“He is a hero. A great man who rose from a lowly officer all the way to emperor.”
I looked around Toulon Port as I answered.
“This is the battlefield where he first made his name.”
“You seem to know him very well.”
“We met once, briefly.”
“...Ah. Did he visit the general store as well?”
“Yes. He was my first customer.”
I kept the rest to myself. Toulon Port was hardly peaceful enough for relaxed conversation.
BOOM—!
The roar of cannon fire echoed as the fortress guarding the entrance between Toulon Port and the sea was bombarded. Fort Mulgrave. The iron stronghold Napoleon had once seized from the royalists stood intact, almost as if someone had rebuilt it exactly as it once was.
BOOM—!
A line of undead were firing on Fort Mulgrave. The scene looked exactly like a reenactment of the Siege of Toulon. Yet the situation was the complete opposite. The bombardment did almost no damage to the fortress; the loud noises simply repeated uselessly.
It couldn’t be helped. The key to the Siege of Toulon—Napoleon—was missing.
The siege had only succeeded because Napoleon’s genius military talent had supported it. That was why modern hunters had a half-joking saying about the Toulon Gate.
Clearing the Toulon Gate is impossible unless Napoleon himself comes back to life.
No hunter in the modern era could replace him. And it wasn’t simply a matter of strategy and tactics. The revolutionary forces here were not allies to hunters. They recognized them as enemies and bombarded them without discrimination.
And when you die, you get assimilated.
Die to the royalists and you joined the royalists. Die to the revolutionaries and you joined them. As undead. Royalists or revolutionaries, to hunters they were nothing but horrific aberrations that had to be exterminated.
Of course, that only applied to ordinary hunters.
“Jeanne, let’s head over there.”
“Won’t it be dangerous?”
“It’s fine. I have a plan.”
The place I pointed to was the revolutionary battery on the hill bombarding the fortress.
As we climbed the slope, the undead firing on the fortress turned to stare at us.
[Ah oh oh─]
Just as they were about to swing their cannons toward us—
Battlefield Charisma has activated.
The trait within Napoleon’s Rifle took effect. The undead froze in place. Hundreds of hazy eyes locked onto the rifle in my hands all at once.
And then—
[──!]
They spat out unintelligible words and saluted me, as if greeting a superior officer.
Having taken command of the first battery, I circled the hill and absorbed the revolutionary forces one after another. Starting with the Jacobins, then Those Without Fear, and finally the Expulsion of Rascals. In total, three batteries fell under my command.
Of course, simply gaining the revolutionary army did not mean the gate could be cleared. They were outnumbered by the royalists, and the enemy held a fortress. But I was someone who had watched Napoleon’s war from up close. I remembered clearly what he valued and exactly how he had captured Fort Mulgrave.
“Forward deployment.”
[Ah oh─!]
The undead moved busily at my command, repositioning the batteries. All three now surrounded Fort Mulgrave and began to press in. It was the “strangle” tactic Napoleon had used.
And I possessed more than just the strategy.
BOOOOM—! BOOOOM—!
The destructive power erupting from the cannons fired by the undead was on an entirely different level than before.
The trait that turns ordinary cannons into self-propelled artillery has been applied to every revolutionary undead firing the guns in conjunction with Battlefield Charisma.
KWAAAAANG—!
A section of Fort Mulgrave crumbled under the impact. A thrill ran through me.
So this is the true power of Napoleon’s Rifle.
The abilities unlocked within the Toulon Gate far exceeded my imagination. While I was still marveling at them—
“Seojun-nim.”
“What is it, Jeanne?”
“There are people over there.”
“People?”
My eyes widened as I followed the direction Jeanne pointed. In the middle of the port where royalist undead roamed, a group of living people were hiding inside a deeply dug trench.
How careless.
Rachel Bonaparte felt a wave of frustration. As the current head of the Bonaparte family and an S-class Hunter of France, she had entered the Toulon Gate to clear it before it went completely out of control. Now she was isolated in the middle of the gate after losing the many hunters who had accompanied her.
She had not let her guard down. Rachel had prepared thoroughly for this raid. Under normal circumstances she should have already succeeded. If only the Toulon Gate had remained in its previous state.
The destabilized gate, however, behaved completely differently.
I never heard that we had to eliminate the commanders first.
The undead moved with military discipline, each group led by an officer. Unless those officers were killed, the undead kept resurrecting. It was information they had only uncovered after losing twenty hunters.
“Matriarch, we must leave the port immediately.”
“I know.”
Rachel peeked out from the pit, observing the undead passing by. At that exact moment—
KWAAAAAANG—!
The entire port shook violently as though struck by an earthquake. Rachel’s eyes widened when she saw the source of the roar. Fort Mulgrave. One side of the impregnable fortress that no hunter had ever cleared was collapsing.
But the real shock was something else.
“Why are the batteries…?”
The revolutionary batteries had surrounded Fort Mulgrave.
The undead are using strategy?
The batteries that had never moved before were not only changing formation but actively encircling and pressuring the fortress. It looked exactly like human military tactics. Rachel felt a deep sense of confusion.
“M-Matriarch! The undead are swarming!”
At her subordinate’s urgent cry, Rachel turned. The revolutionary undead were breaking through the royalist lines and pouring into the port. To her they were all the same kind of monster, so it simply looked as though their numbers had grown.
“We have no choice. Break through.”
Deciding they had to escape the port before it was too late, Rachel rose to her feet. That was when a bizarre sight caught her eye. At the front of the oncoming undead were two figures who clearly did not belong among the monsters.
…People?
They were definitely human. A young East Asian man wearing a mask that covered the lower half of his face, and a blonde girl. Even more shocking was the fact that the undead were following the young man.
“Th-the undead are following people!”
“That’s impossible…”
For a brief moment she was stunned by the impossible sight. Then the pair approached them.
“We came to help.”
Rachel roughly understood that the young man was speaking Korean and offering assistance. Then a familiar voice in her native tongue reached her.
“Are you injured?”
The blonde girl was looking at her right arm.
“Yes, my arm…”
Rachel frowned as she glanced down. Her broken, swollen arm looked unusable for the time being.
“May I treat it?”
“Ah, yes. I would be grateful.”
The girl placed her hand on Rachel’s swollen right arm. A warm light bloomed, and the swelling vanished instantly. Rachel’s eyes widened at the now perfectly normal limb.
…It’s completely fine.
Skin and bone were pristine, as though the injury had never existed. A healer of this caliber had to be at least A-class with light-attribute powers. Rachel watched in astonishment as the girl healed the other hunters’ wounds.
Then gunshots rang out.
BANG—! BANG—!
The young man was picking off the undead with a musket rifle. Rachel shouted, “Aim for the officers!”
Whether he understood or not, the young man began shooting the officers with terrifying precision.
BANG—! BANG—!
One hundred shots, one hundred hits. Not a single bullet missed. As the officers fell, the undead clustered around them collapsed on their own.
He’s taking them down that easily?
The accuracy and power were astonishing. While Rachel stared in a daze at the godlike marksmanship, something finally caught her eye.
The musket rifle the young man was firing. The emblem engraved on its buttstock made Rachel’s eyes fly open in shock.
A golden eagle. It was an emblem she knew better than anyone else. Because that golden eagle was the symbol of the Bonaparte family—her family. The family of her ancestor, Napoleon.
Moreover, the rifle the young man used was the smoothbore musket known to have been Napoleon’s favorite.
There was no doubt. That was Napoleon’s Rifle.
Yet the young man was handling it freely, without any restrictions whatsoever.
How…?
In Rachel’s understanding, such a thing was impossible. To wield Napoleon’s relics properly, one’s magic wavelength had to match. Even she, a direct descendant of Napoleon and current head of the Bonaparte family, could not use them with such perfect freedom.
Unless Napoleon himself had been reincarnated.
“......”
Rachel Bonaparte’s eyes trembled as she stared at the young man—Choi Seojun.