Why Did You Summon Me? - Chapter 567
Although the Engineer Walker’s new toy was only a robot imbued with weird lines, it was the marionette he had shown off to the wealthy some time ago, to earn their investment.
Back then, Baiyi considered the Phoenix marionette more of a crowd-pleaser than an actual weapon.
The huge sum of money that the Engineer Walker raised, allowed him to make massive upgrades to the Phoenix marionette.
He increased the machine’s power consumption, giving it a greater appetite for Baiyi’s Void Energy.
It had cost a lot to upgrade the Phoenix marionette.
The same amount of money could be used to arm an army of millions.
Fortunately, the Phoenix proved worthy of the funds invested into it.
Despite being struck multiple times by hundreds of soldiers, Phoenix remained in pristine condition.
Having been made with the Alchemist Walker’s new metallic alloy, ‘Gundamium’, Phoenix was resilient, withstanding a barrage of combat chi attacks, magical attacks, and theurgical attacks without suffering so much as a scratch.
The marionette’s attacks were crude, though.
All it did was punch the soldiers and the ground, but the Church’s soldiers soon realized that things were not that simple.
The marionette could read movement and counter perfectly, making its attacks more difficult to evade than martial art techniques.
Everyone that met Phoenix head-on, including crusaders and paladins, was knocked out cold.
The formation was breaking fast!
“Watch out! That monstrous thing is after our clerics and sorcerers! Protect them!” A group of crusaders shouted.
As there was some distance between these crusaders and Phoenix, they could see where it was headed.
A cleric, who feared for her life, screamed, “Don’t despair, brothers and sisters! Light… Light will always subdue darkness!”
Phoenix smirked when it heard that.
“Who the hell would understand that?” Before the cleric could answer, she was squashed into meat paste.
Sir Aaron, who stood in the middle of the central battalion, watched in horror as his men and their horses were blown away.
Seeing as the left battalion was on the verge of collapse, he ordered some of the soldiers in the right battalion to go and provide support.
Paladin Grand Cross prepared to lead the templars to attack the marionette, but he was stopped by the Chief Judge.
If he had gone, the two most important figures the Church had on that battlefield would have been open to ambush.
Despite the army’s best effort, the left battalion was been battered by Phoenix.
The number of casualties continued to rise.
Many of the deceased were magic users, and as their numbers reduced, the army’s defensive barrier thinned.
Sir Aaron could no longer watch idly; he ordered more troops in the right battalion to advance, and soon, the Church’s army began to converge.
.
.
.
The Blacksmith Walker watched from atop the city wall.
He knew that the time had come for him to act.
“Attention, Second Perfect!” He shouted for one of his favorite pupils.
“Where’s my Artillery of Italy*?”1
‘Wait, is he referring to me? When did I become ‘Second Perfect’? And since when do we have more artillery than those six over there?’ The student wondered as he asked his friends to ready their howitzers.
“Since when were these called ‘Artillery of Italy’?” One of his friends asked, but, no one answered.
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“Load them with our FAE1! Forego precise aiming; point the artillery at the most crowded area and just keep firing!” The Blacksmith barked.
With that, the six howitzers began to fire.
Flaming shells whistled through the air, bombarding the areas where the soldiers were converging.
Large defense barriers were cast over a group of people, not a single person.
If the group under protection remained organized, the large barrier would continue to work effectively.
For those that would like to know what happens to large defense barriers if the group underneath it were disorganized — or what would happen if such a barrier was weakened — they would only need to watch this battle unfold.
After the Blacksmith Walker’s FAEs bored holes through the anti-magical walls, they exploded.
Deafening explosions rocked the ground one after the other, and when the dust cleared, only corpses could be seen.
For people in this world — common folk of medieval times, where advanced defensive gears were difficult to secure — the damage caused by these explosive rounds were no different than the damage caused by bombs today.
“W-w-we’re being struck by enemy’s magic attacks despite the protection of our anti-magic barriers?! Is this some kind of cruel joke?” Haydyn Sr.
screamed, his heart almost giving out from shock.
Paladin Grand Cross and the Chief Judge watch the chaos unfold with wide eyes.
Although the formation was broken, the soldiers were still close together.
There was no reason why the anti-magic defense barriers should easily break down.
If that was the case, just how did those magic attacks penetrate the barriers?
Paladin Grand Cross knew the best decision to make; reputation be damned.
“Retreat! Retreat right now!”
Paladin Grand Cross had yet to understand why all this was happening, but when he saw Haydyn Sr.
faint like an old lady, he had had enough, ordering a quick retreat.
He did not intend to let any more soldiers get slaughtered.
Unfortunately, the wise decision was made at the wrong time.
Eager to heed their commander’s order, the soldiers turned tail and fled in different directions, causing the unstable anti-magic barrier to begin shrinking.
The Archmage seized this opportunity and bombarded the soldiers outside the shrinking anti-magic barrier with powerful spells.
Together with the Blacksmith Walker’s explosive rounds and the attacks of the Engineer Walker’s Phoenix, the enemy soldiers’ formation crumbled.
Everyone had abandoned their positions, fleeing madly for their lives.
“No… No! How did it come to this?!” The Chief Judge asked over and over again as he tried to maintain his balance atop his mount.
He was still safe because he was surrounded by very powerful templars.
However, all he could do was watch his men desperately flee from the onslaught of attacks.
Everywhere the Chief Judge looked, he saw men careening through the air, whilst some were just burned into crisps.
As screams rang around the battlefield, all the young man could see were severed limbs, and this caused him psychological damage.
The Chief Judge could not help but wonder if this was what hell was like.
“Tsk, what a waste,” the Blacksmith Walker said, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, as he watched the soldiers flee for their lives.
He had just gotten word from the second perfect that the howitzers were overheating and needed some time to cool down, after which they would receive quick maintenance.
The Blacksmith Walker had only ordered his people to stand down when the enemy soldiers were no longer threats.
The Engineer Walker had recalled Phoenix.
He did not want his expensive marionette to suffer any more scratches while chasing the fleeing soldiers.
As Phoenix strutted back to the city, it shouted proudly, “Hail, Solomon; I am home!” The city defenders welcomed it with cheers.
The Archmage stopped his attacks.
Bullying soldiers that had lost their will to fight was beneath him, the noblest Emperor of the Rohlserlian Empire.
He would leave the chasing to his underlings.
“Release Attie’s tribesmen,” the Archmage ordered Tisdale, Nota, and the other girls, who were standing behind him.
The steppe cavalry, which consisted of five thousand barbarians, had been standing by in Attie’s hometown since the war started.
They were discreetly within Arfin City through Granjt’s secret teleportation portal when Phoenix began its rampage.
Upon receiving the First Walker’s order, the sorcerers allied with the Voidwalkers used short-distance teleportation spells to bring the steppe cavalry right outside the city gate.
Barbarians were not known for being reliable, neither were they renowned for their prowess, but they moved quickly and a stomach for blood.
Sending them after the fleeing enemies was an effective but merciless method of cleaning up.
This made Nota frown.
“Grandpa, the enemies are retreating.
Must we still do this to them?”
“Child, in order to understand what mercy is — as well as the conditions that lead up to it — you must first witness cruelty,” the Archmage replied quietly.
Nota nodded in understanding, and without wasting any more time, she quietly worked with the Archmage to transport the barbarians directly to the battlefield.
The barbarians trembled with excitement, having been given the opportunity to do what they love the most: putting the defenseless out of their misery.
“King Attie offers ten gold for every enemy beheaded, and whoever acquires the most heads will be gifted a housing estate in Chandra City! Not only that, but their son will also be offered a place at Da Xue! Brothers, let us go forth and kill every last one of these zealots!” The lead barbarian hollered.
He was a Chandra tribesman that happened to be one of Attie’s biggest fans.
He loved Attie so much, he pretended that she was still the King of Steppe.
These barbarians did not really care if they received rewards personally from Attie.
Chandra City was considered a paradise in the Steppe, and every wealthy family — regardless of their tribe — would do whatever it took to secure a home in the city.
Even if a hundred cows was the asking price, they would still fork it over.
A chance for their kid to study at the legendary Da Xue was the icing on top of an already perfect cake, as the academy’s doors had not been open to barbarians before.
Money could even entice the devil work; it was certainly enough to make the barbarians — who Baiyi considered a ragtag band of gentle ruffians — to forget that they were working for the Demon Lord that once set the Steppe aflame.
Forming a stampeded, the barbarians charged after the fleeing Church soldiers.
Some barbarians were slain by fleeing soldiers, but the majority of them chased the soldiers all the way back to their camp in Shamshire.
Only after reinforcements rushed out from this camp were the barbarians forced to give up chase and retreat.
However, they had managed to reap four thousand lives in their rampage, increasing the Church’s loss to over two million soldiers.
It had now lost a third of its manpower!
At a time when losing more than a tenth of one’s militia could seal one’s faith, the Church’s losses were nothing short of horrifying.