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75.51% Nanotechnology: Reborn As A Prince Of Wales / Chapter 37: Chapter 36 Slaughter

章節 37: Chapter 36 Slaughter

Ethan rode atop his white horse, his men marching behind him in crude lines. The people of Bala lined the streets, their faces a mix of confusion and fear. Mothers pulled their children close, whispers rippling through the crowd. "Are we being attacked?" one man asked. Others pointed to the strange weapons in the hands of Ethan's men. The fear of the unknown gripped them.

East of Bala, beyond the sparse plains, nestled a valley where 200 men from Corwen camped. Supplies were dwindling, and tension brewed among the soldiers.

Llyn stood near the campfire, his sword propped against the ground. "Where is Lord Peter's damn signal?" he growled, his frustration mounting.

Talog, fidgeting nearby, "Maybe he fell off his horse. Or worse, he's been caught." His voice betrayed his nerves. "We're wasting time, Llyn. We'll starve here..."

Llyn glared at him. "You're the reason why we're here cunt, why don't you lead the men and storm the gates of Bala."

Before Talog could argue, the thunder of hooves broke the tension. Two scouts arrived, their faces pale, their horses lathered with sweat.

"Enemies!" one of them gasped, sliding off his mount.

"How many?" Llyn demanded, his hand already on his sword.

"A hundred. They're marching straight for us!"

Llyn's men stirred uneasily, muttering among themselves. Talog's face turned ashen. "This doesn't make sense," he stammered. "They know our position, and they're coming straight for us? Why not ambush us?"

"Ready the men!" Llyn barked. "We'll meet them head-on."

Talog hesitated, his fear evident.

"What's wrong?" Llyn sneered. "I thought they were just farmers."

"Y-yeah," Talog said weakly, forcing a grin.

---

Ethan halted his army on the plains, the sun casting a golden glow over the landscape. His men stood tense, gripping their weapons. Most had never fought before, their hands trembling as they gripped the strange metal devices Ethan had given them.

Oswald, a young recruit, swallowed hard. "I think I pissed myself," he muttered.

Callwen clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Don't worry. No one will notice once the blood starts flying."

Ahead, the enemy emerged, a line of 200 men cresting the valley's edge. Ethan's men stiffened, their breaths quickening.

Llyn squinted from atop his horse, his men forming up behind him. "So that's the bastard lord," he muttered. "I expected him to be a giant." His men chuckled nervously.

The Corwen men continued to march, their steps deliberate and heavy.

"Archers!" Llyn shouted, his voice carrying over the field.

As Corwen's archers stepped forward, Ethan raised his hand. "Sharpshooters, to the front!" he barked. His men shuffled into position, raising their weapons.

Llyn frowned. "What in God's name are th—?"

"Fire!" Ethan commanded.

The sound was deafening. Thunder cracked across the plains, and the archers crumpled like wheat before a scythe. Blood sprayed the ground as the bullets tore through chainmail and flesh.

Llyn fell from his horse, clutching his ear where a bullet had grazed him. "Devilish weapons!" he cried, his voice trembling.

Talog dropped to his knees, his face pale. "We're going to die!" he whimpered, crawling backward in terror.

The firing stopped. Smoke rose from the barrels of the weapons as the silence pressed down like a weight.

Tarwyn, standing among Ethan's men, stared at the carnage. "This isn't a battle," he muttered, his voice hollow, "It's a slaughter."

Ethan's voice cut through the silence. "Reform! Second line, ready positions!" His men moved quickly, spreading out in a long row.

Llyn, blood dripping from his ear, forced himself to stand. "Their weapons are spent! They've nothing left!" He turned to his men, rallying those that were left while some fled. "For Corwen!"

The remaining soldiers charged, their battle cries echoing across the plains.

Ethan stood firm, his gaze cold. "Hold fire," he commanded, his men tensing as the enemy drew closer.

"Hold," he repeated, his voice steady.

The Corwen men were nearly upon them, their screams filling the air.

"Fire!" Ethan shouted.

The guns roared again, the line erupting in smoke and thunder. Llyn's head snapped back as a bullet struck his forehead, his body crumpling to the ground. The charging men fell like dominoes, their cries of pain cut short. Blood soaked the earth, pooling beneath the lifeless bodies.

The battlefield still smoldered in the aftermath of carnage. The clatter of swords being collected and armor stripped from the dead mixed with the moans of wounded men. Blood soaked the earth. Ethan stood apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the shattered bodies strewn across the plains. His hands twitched with purpose.

He muttered to himself, "The air rifle achieves comparable muzzle velocity to gunpowder firearms! this is due to the optimized pressure control..... the propulsion system is far more efficient."

Tarwyn approached, his steps crunching. His face was streaked with sweat and grime, but there was a grim satisfaction in his eyes. "I've told the men to chase down the cowards who fled. This batt— exercise was good for them...." he said, though his tone betrayed a slight hesitation.

Ethan glanced at him, nodding curtly. "You're right."

His mind, however, had already moved on. His heightened senses swept over the scene, cataloging the dead. There are corpses in good condition. I'll take a few tonight... delay the burning. Out loud, he said, "Burn the bodies at first light."

Tarwyn nodded. "As you say."


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