Release That Witch

"Don't move him!" Brian roared. "I'll check his wounds and you keep shooting."     

He handed his rifle to the recruits who were responsible for it and bent over to the wounded. The wounded man was conscious and asked tremblingly, "Captain, I... am I going to die?"     

A short spear squint had pierced his lower chest and it was not clear whether it had pierced through his body. Based on his smooth breathing, his lung was not hurt. In his literary class, the prince had briefly explained the functions of each organ in the human body as well as the emergency measures to be taken if they were injured. In cases like this, the best way he could think of was not moving him until Nana could treat him after the battle.     

"Does it hurt?" Brian asked.     

Freckles nodded painfully.     

"If you're feeling pain, that means you won't die." Brian put his hand on the man's forehead. "You should be aware of Miss Nana's power, right?"     

"Yes." Freckles barely managed to smile at him. "Everyone wants… to meet her so… I guess I can finally meet her."     

"That's right. So hang in there."     

After Brian finished speaking, he returned to the shooting window, and the recruit looked back anxiously. "Don't we pull out the short spear?"     

"Pulling out is easy to cause a lot of bleeding, and when you learn this, you'll understand." He paused. "What we can do now is to destroy the enemy as soon as possible."     

…     

Standing on a high platform, Roland could clearly see the enemies that rushed towards the town like a tide.     

With each bunkers they crossed, their speed significantly slowed. When they passed the third row of bunkers, the enemy's central wing was completely exposed to crossfire by the shooters.     

Echo's use was very obvious. Even when the team was scattered into a long strip, most of them were still following the witch's command to charge at the center, running on the road.     

Each minute, groups of people fell over, helpless to do anything. Facing fortifications that could not be destroyed by swords and spears, Timothy's militia could only endure their casualties and continue to move forward.     

300 meters away from the third row of bunkers were the artilleries. Within this range, this was the death zone covered by grapeshot.     

In the sky, Lightning turned the flag a vibrant red.     

The firing angle of the 20 artilleries was set level to give off flames and smoke. Roland roughly estimated that the skilled mortar team could fire a grapeshot in 20 seconds and the lesser team in half a minute. Upon first glance, it was similar to the firing rate of the excellent mortar team in the American Civil War, but the result of three rounds per minute for the latter was based on a solid shooting performance with a lot of time spent on targeting and repeated reduction. But there was no need to target and wipe the gun. Thus, their firing rate could be even higher.     

But for the enemies, this was a formidable firing rate because grapeshots could cause astonishing hurts on unarmored targets with each iron ball capable of penetrating two to three people. Though pills could cure the pain, it could not resist terror. When witnessing people around riddled, excited greatly and eager to kill as they were, they could not resist this extremely terror of losing lives, let alone they were not so determined. Without pills, they were untrained and unexperienced commoners. After a half of them were killed, escapers appeared in the enemies.     

The fear spread among the people like a plague. When the first runaway disappeared, so did the second and third. It was so bad that the front line stopped moving forwards and turned backwards to escape. The cannon team once again reloaded solid shells and fired at the center of the road, as the flintlock squad continued to shoot.     

Bodies were piled up on the road.     

...     

Levin's anger gradually subsided and he began to feel afraid.     

The 20 more people all discovered that witch who caused chaos. She wore so strange clothes that she could be incorporated into the woods when on the lurk. No one would be able to discover her if she did not follow the team to march and lead all to pool together toward the center of the road.     

Even so, she had already made huge trouble for Levin—he found that the sounds imitated by the witch were from everywhere, sometimes from the left, sometimes from the right, sometimes from the behind of his head. Besides, their contents were diversified, such as imitating his sound to send orders or some militia's painful sound.     

The moment they wanted to catch her, the lady in white appeared again.     

Levin relived the shocking phenomenon where Lehmann Hawes was killed within the blink of an eye.     

She held a silver "light crossbow". With a spark and a loud noise, a man would then drop dead.     

The roundup net was instantly torn into pieces. Everyone became terrified as their armors and shields were not working. What was worse, Levin's iron buckler was shattered into half. The small hole in it showed that his enemy's weapon could not be any more powerful. Perhaps only two-handed crossbows were enough to go against it. Had he not subconsciously lowered his head, he would be a corpse by now.     

However, crossbows could not be shot consecutively.     

Levin soon realized his desperation when he found out that the witch in white was not only capable of appearing and disappearing at will, but was also equipped with a fearsome weapon that needed no reloading. Once this thought prevailed, it was as if his anger met the cold wind and was extinguished in a flash.     

"Eat the pill and kill her when she shows up!"     

Even as he was shouting this order, Levin himself was making his retreat. He ran towards the woods when her attention turned to the militias.     

It would be safer to stay with the main army. She would not dare to attack him when he was in a crowd.     

The woods were filled with peculiar wild grass that reached his knees. There were also creepers on the grounds. If he was careless, he would definitely trip over them. Stumbling out of the woods, he looked ahead and wanted to join the army. But the scene before him terrified him.     

The militias who were still under the effect of the pills were retreating… No, it was more accurate to say they were escaping. Those who were slow or did not react in time were pushed to the ground and mercilessly trampled by the others. They were like roaring horses when they charged forward and they were the same when they escaped. The runaways stirred up all the dust and Levin dared not step forward to stop them.     

What happened on earth? Levin was stunned and could not believe that 1,500 people taking the pills had been defeated in such a short time? Were Prince Roland's army all monsters?     

At this moment, he heard someone treading on the grass, he gritted his teeth and pulled out his sword to stab in the direction behind him—at the life-threatening moment, this pull was even quicker than his usual speed, but he could only see a dazzling fire spark. The sword was smashed by something and the sparks were flying. Then he felt a pain in his right hand, which was holding the sword and he lost all sense at his fingertips.     

When his eyes turned to his hands, Levin found half of his arm had disappeared, with his red-white muscles and bone exposed like a blooming snake flower. The lady in white approached him without expression and he retreated, before falling over in panic.     

With one foot pressed against his shoulder, the witch held a cold weapon against his forehead. From this angle, Levin could see her face hidden under her hood.     

So… beautiful.     

This was his last thought before the gun was fired.