Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 689: Sniper Kill

Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 689: Sniper Kill

Chapter 689: Sniper Kill
Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World
TL: Rui88
As night fell, the clamor of battle temporarily vanished from the lands near Silvermoon Fortress.
The orcs made camp three miles from the fortress.
Looking at the distant pinpricks of light, Amur sighed heavily.
“Chieftain!”
A subordinate came up behind him and said in a worried voice:
“I feel like Lord Bayar is not going to make it.”
Amur turned immediately. “Quick, take me to see him.”
He followed his subordinate at a brisk pace to a tent somewhere in the camp, took a few deep breaths, and ducked inside.
A thick smell of herbs mixed with an equally thick smell of pus and blood entered Amur’s nostrils.
Of course, for a seasoned military commander, this was not unbearable.
The tent was floored with animal hides, and a weak figure lay upon them.
Amur came to his side, squatted down with a solemn expression, and took one of his hands.
His body temperature was frighteningly high; that was what Amur felt from Bayar.
During the day, Bayar, as his deputy, had led the archers to approach the human position first.
The archers had borne the brunt of the humans’ first wave of attack, and countless deadly metal pellets had caused them to suffer heavy losses.
Bayar, as the commander, was unfortunately wounded. A pellet had pierced his thigh. The soldiers beside him immediately carried him away and desperately got him off the battlefield.
Bayar had lost a lot of blood and developed a high fever in the evening, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Amur frowned as he looked at his deputy.
Just as the soldier had said, his current condition was extremely poor.
Bayar’s eyes were half-closed, his whole face flushed an unnatural red, and fine beads of sweat dotted his forehead. His lips, however, were pale, completely devoid of color.
“Oh, my brother…”
Amur let out a mournful sound.
Bayar struggled to open his eyelids a little more. “I beg you, Lord Amur, burn my remains to ash and scatter them on the plains of my homeland.”
Amur shook his head. “How could a small ailment like this defeat the strong orc warrior Bayar? Rest well. I will return to the plains with you, riding with the spoils of war.”
“Cough, cough…” Bayar’s cough was utterly weak.
“Amur, I have something to say to you, to you alone…”
Amur gestured to the others. “You all leave first…”
Once only the two of them remained in the tent, Bayar forced himself to continue speaking.
“What little reason I have left tells me that our army is incomparably strong, at least strong enough to sweep through half the Kingdom of Ordo and win a large piece of fertile land under the sun for the orcs. But since I was wounded, I have been having nightmares, on and off.”
“In my nightmares, the Spirit of the Plains revealed a terrifying scene to me.”
Waves stirred in Amur’s heart. “What scene?”
“Human armies charging into the plains, using those terrifying weapons we saw today to wantonly slaughter and drive away our people!”
“How is that possible!”
It seemed his deputy was truly delirious with fever—Amur judged in his heart.
He thought the most pessimistic scenario would be the orcs meeting stubborn resistance and being forced to retreat back to the plains.
But to have the human armies, who in his eyes were incredibly weak, charge into the plains to slaughter orcs was something he had never imagined.
Amur suppressed the strange feeling in his heart and comforted him, “You should rest well. Don’t think about such chaotic things. I’m going to check on the other wounded warriors.”
He lifted the tent flap and walked out.
The day’s battle had left this vanguard of over a thousand men with more than a hundred dead and over two hundred wounded. Moreover, the outlook for many of the wounded was grim. The casualties could be described as heavy.
The other wounded did not have the luxury of a private tent like Bayar and were placed together in several large tents.
Amur made his rounds. Many of the wounded were running high fevers like Bayar and had fallen into a coma. Many more had to have their arms or legs amputated with a saw, becoming disabled.
He walked out of the area for the wounded, his mood heavy. The night wind brought fresh air, finally freeing him from the foul smell of herbs and pus.
…
“Incredible, the esteemed Sir Joyce! Your way of fighting is truly impressive.”
Knight Lentria held a bowl of hot soup and spoke to the person opposite him in a tone of admiration.
The Alda army had gathered a group of routed soldiers, and Lentria had been appointed as the temporary commander of this force.
He himself was actually one of the routed soldiers. Unlike Henkel who had run away, although Lentria was still pessimistic, he had decided to stay and assist the Alda army in battle.
During the day, Lentria had thought he was going to die here. Perhaps the Northwesterners had been sent by the Lord of Light to appear here to correct his deviated path of chivalry.
But he never expected to be saved.
The Northwesterners’ strange weapons had suppressed the orcs’ frenzied attack, causing those arrogant fellows to suffer heavy losses.
Joyce, sitting opposite him, smiled faintly. “Believe me, Knight Lentria, as long as we stand united, we can make those fellows suffer even more.”
“I was too preoccupied with the battle during the day to ask, but now I would like to inquire about the news of the royal army and Princess Catherine.”
Lentria frowned. “My lord and I retreated with the royal army, but… when breaking through an orc encirclement, we got separated on the road. They might have been tied down by the enemy!”
Worry arose in Joyce’s heart.
Perhaps the Alda army should go deeper into the Blackstone Plains to find Princess Catherine? After all, she was not only the princess of the kingdom but also his future mistress.
The night passed with both sides on high alert. Dawn came again.
When the morning mist cleared, a scene that filled the Ordo soldiers with rage appeared on the land before Silvermoon Fortress.
The orcs had launched another attack, but they had captured a large number of human civilians to use as human shields, approaching their position step by step.
Joyce was furious and immediately ordered the “snipers” equipped with rifled muskets to shoot the orc soldiers who were herding the human civilians.
The order was quickly carried out. The human position was no longer filled with the roar of cannons, but with scattered gunshots.
The orc overseers mixed in with the human civilians soon paid a heavy price. Swiftly fired bullets struck their bodies, taking their lives one by one.
Amur, watching from a distance, was greatly surprised. At such a great distance, could the humans’ weapons actually achieve such precise kills?
He couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat. If the enemy had identified him as the leader of the attack yesterday, wouldn’t he have been in great danger?
Discovering that their captors were all being killed, the human civilians used as shields erupted in a commotion and immediately scattered and fled.
Although the orcs were dangerous, the kingdom’s army, being fellow humans, was not necessarily safe either.

Chapter 689: Sniper Kill