Trenches, Guns, and Magic

"To witness a duel between Armored Knights at such close range, even dying here would be worth it!"

This was a joke the instruction unit soldiers frequently cracked with Ludwig's trio during their daily "infantry-cavalry coordination" training.

But now, actually standing on the battlefield and watching two towering giants collide less than ten meters away in the middle of the street, everyone just wanted to get as far away as possible.

Seeing the battle between the giants grow increasingly fierce, an NCO tossed two "special" grenades at a swarm of charging Blood Servants. He followed up by emptying his pump-action shotgun into the oncoming horde, ducked back behind a pile of rubble, and ordered the surrounding soldiers:

"Leave this to the knights! Everyone else, fall back to the buildings opposite!"

Hearing his command, the others quickly sprang into action.

Once most of the men had evacuated and set up their guns in new positions, the two-man light machine gun team grabbed their ammo boxes and weapon, breaking into a run for the rear.

Just then, another pack of Blood Servants burst through the dust and smoke. They quickly spotted the retreating machine gun team and lunged straight at them.

The two gunners realized the danger, wishing they had an extra pair of legs, while the others fired desperately to cover them.

Suddenly, a tower-like white figure seemingly teleported behind the two men.

With a sweep of his shield, he swatted the leading Blood Servant away. He then unleashed a flurry of strikes with the holy golden light radiating from his one-handed sword, standing like an immovable reef against the surging tide of monsters.

"Fall back! I'll cover you."

The gruff voice of the Holy See Paladin instantly reassured the two instruction unit soldiers. They sprinted to nearby cover, slid into a prone position, set up their light machine gun, and fired short bursts at the Blood Servants to support the Paladin.

The reactions of the instruction unit soldiers and Paladins elsewhere were much the same. Everyone knew they couldn't interfere in a battle between steel giants, so they left the stage entirely to them.

In the middle of the street, after engaging his flesh construct counterpart, Ludwig quickly realized this was no simple fight.

These amalgams of flesh and steel clearly underwent drastic changes in propulsion and support structures compared to standard Armored Knights.

Or rather, aside from a superficial resemblance to Armored Knights, they were essentially an entirely different class of unit.

For one thing, possessing such a massive chassis while moving so swiftly was something an Armored Knight simply could not do... not even the Britannians' "St. George Mark III" was this agile.

The flesh construct threw a punch—or rather, a tentacle-like cluster of blood-red biomass. Ludwig sidestepped it. The heavy "wind of the punch" brushed past the "Siegfried Mark I's" pauldron, shattering the second-story exterior wall of a tower behind him.

Seizing the brief window of vulnerability following the attack, Ludwig piloted his Armored Knight into a brutal shoulder charge. Creating a second opening, he swung his armor-piercing warhammer down, the head striking precisely at the flesh construct's waist.

This mini-combo was the most common attack sequence Teutonic Knights used against other Armored Knights, proving effective time and again.

"BOOM!"

The shaped-charge warhead detonated on impact. A high-temperature jet of molten metal pierced straight through the flesh construct's surface tissues, blasting a gaping hole in its waist.

Fire and debris sprayed from the exit wound in its back, revealing a ruined metal skeleton inside.

The flesh construct staggered back two steps. The strike had clearly inflicted damage.

But just as Ludwig prepared to follow up with a finishing blow, as he would in any previous battle, his expression changed.

He watched the charred hole on the enemy's waist rapidly fill with dark red muscle tissue. It grew at a speed visible to the naked eye, spreading from the edges toward the center, attempting to seal the wound.

In a single breath, the hole shrank by half.

"What the hell... it can grow back?!"

The situation for the other two Armored Knights was much the same.

Unit Two, specializing in enchanted greatsword combat, severed a construct's shoulder joint. However, the severed limb didn't fall off; it reattached itself using living, writhing flesh tissues.

Unit Three's encounter mirrored Ludwig's. Sticking to his style of targeting the cockpit, he drove a hammer straight through the enemy's breastplate.

Yet the construct didn't even drop. The massive hole in its chest mostly repaired itself in seconds. Then, its balled-up "fist" suddenly unfurled into a mass of fleshy tentacles that wrapped around Unit Three, attempting to drag the Armored Knight over by brute force.

Fortunately, the Teutonic Knight reacted quickly and kept his cool.

He raised his mechanical arm and blasted the tentacles with the flamethrower mounted under his forearm. Fire clearly acted as a counter to these flesh constructs; the scorched tentacles recoiled in panic.

The Teutonic Knight piloting Unit Three leapt backward, escaping the dilemma of a close-quarters grapple.

The three Armored Knights pulled back to open up the distance. As Ludwig piloted his machine in reverse, he rapidly analyzed the situation.

Shaped-charge armor-piercing weapons still dealt damage, but the regenerative ability of these flesh constructs was too absurd.

Moreover, they clearly lacked the concept of a human "pilot" inside, and the location of their core was unknown. If the core wasn't destroyed in a single strike, they could recover their combat effectiveness in extremely short order.

But given their numerical disadvantage of three against four, they simply didn't have the time to slowly hunt for the cores.

"Form up on me! Delta formation, cover each other!"

Ludwig issued the command, and the three Armored Knights quickly converged into a tight delta formation.

Standing back-to-back, they pointed their weapons outward in different directions, guarding each other's blind spots.

The four flesh constructs fully completed their repairs and resumed their heavy advance.

Their movements grew more frenzied than before. The fleshy tissues covering their bodies pulsed violently, as if they were enraged.

A split second later, the four constructs pounced simultaneously, forcing the three Armored Knights into a defensive posture.

Thankfully, the Saxon Empire's Armored Knights were built for "big, dumb, and brute-force" durability.

Though they lacked mobility, their heavy tonnage allowed them to stand their ground under the fierce assault of the flesh constructs. A variety of modifications ensured that whenever the enemy attempted to close in for melee, they were repelled by flamethrowers.

But this clearly wasn't a sustainable strategy...

Just as Ludwig was brainstorming how to finish off these monsters, a resonant voice shouted from below.

"Teutonic Knights! Do you hear me?!"

In his Sympathetic Operation State, Ludwig tilted his head slightly and spotted Cleric Cristiano.

The burly man in white heavy armor was charging their way alongside two Paladins, hacking down Blood Servants and Blood Thralls in their path.

"If you can't kill them in one hit, try knocking them down! Put them on the ground! We might have a way to deal with them!"

Ludwig paused for a second, then immediately grasped the cleric's intent: incapacitate them, even if it only creates a time window of a few seconds.

"Understood!"

Ludwig responded through his loudspeakers, simultaneously shifting his attack strategy.

He stopped aiming for the flesh constructs' torsos and targeted their legs instead.

In the ensuing clash, Ludwig first absorbed a heavy blow from a flesh construct with his left pauldron. As the enemy tried to entangle him with its fleshy tentacles, he swung his second armor-piercing warhammer down, smashing it brutally into the construct's right knee joint.

The shaped-charge energy detonated at the knee. Flesh and bone shattered under the impact, and Ludwig immediately followed up with a heavy stomp, completely severing the enemy's right leg.

Losing its support, the massive flesh construct toppled to its right.

Seeing this, Ludwig landed another stomp, then used his massive physical warhammer to crush the fleshy tissues of its left leg joint.

The nearly six-meter-tall flesh construct crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of debris and dust on the street.

Although its legs began regenerating like its previous injuries, it would take at least a dozen seconds for it to stand up again.

And for the Holy See Paladins, a dozen seconds was more than enough.

The moment the flesh construct hit the ground, Cleric Cristiano sprang into action. He vaulted up the monster's arm and scaled its torso in three quick strides, exhibiting an agility completely unmatched by a burly man wearing full heavy armor.

The flesh construct's massive arm swept toward him. The cleric simply ducked low, and the fleshy tentacles, pulled taut by the swing, whipped harmlessly over his head.

Cristiano yanked a silver-thermite bomb from his belt, pulled the pin, and shoved it straight into the partially healed fleshy structures on the construct's chest.

Then he vaulted backward, leaping off the monster.

As his boots hit the ground, a muffled explosion boomed behind him, followed by a blinding flash of white light.

The silver-thermite bomb detonated inside the flesh construct. Blistering heat of 2,500 degrees scorched it from the inside out.

The frantically regenerating flesh was utterly defenseless against such temperatures. Starting from the blast point, the tissue was completely incinerated, the charring rapidly spreading outward.

The flesh construct struggled to rise for a moment before ceasing all movement entirely.

A gaping hole had been burned through its chest cavity, the edges still emitting white smoke. The presence of silver rendered the fleshy tissues completely inert, let alone capable of regenerating.

"It works!" Ludwig shouted inside his cockpit. "That's the strategy!"

The remaining three flesh constructs seemed to sense their comrade's total annihilation.

Their movements turned even more frenzied. Their suicidal attack patterns forced the other two Armored Knights to widen their evasive maneuvers.

But the solution had been found; all that remained was executing it.

Unit Two flanked a construct. A low horizontal sweep with its enchanted greatsword cleanly severed the monster's legs at the knees.

Before the creature even hit the ground, Ludwig, now free, piloted his Armored Knight to slam into its back, flattening it face-down onto the street.

Two Paladins sprinted forward almost simultaneously, each shoving a silver-thermite bomb into the wounds it had sustained earlier in the battle.

Armor penetration and incendiary detonation were completed in an instant...

Seeing their comrades destroyed one after another, the remaining two flesh constructs hesitated noticeably.

In that split second of hesitation, Ludwig seized the opportunity once more.

He pushed the "Siegfried Mark I - Modified" to full speed, charging the nearest flesh construct currently grappling with Unit Three.

Recovering, the construct swung its fleshy tentacles to attack. Ludwig didn't block it head-on; instead, he sidestepped at the last possible moment, letting the barrage of spiked tentacles graze past him.

He then brought his warhammer down with devastating force, sending the flesh construct stumbling. Taking advantage of the enemy's lost balance, Unit Three swung its armor-piercing warhammer as well.

The shaped-charge energy severed the connective tissues at its hip. Unit Three then planted a front kick on the unbalanced construct's chest, knocking it flat on its back.

Having cleared the surrounding vampires, the Holy See Paladins were already waiting nearby...

Witnessing this outcome, the final flesh construct initially looked as if it were going to charge and "blow up" with everyone. But as Ludwig and the others braced for impact, the creature did something entirely unexpected.

It turned around and bolted.

Simultaneously, the Blood Dragon Knights and other vampire units disengaged from combat, following the last flesh construct in a retreat toward the palace interior.

Immediately after, a wave of vampiric howls erupted from within the city, followed by the dense thud of approaching footsteps converging on the Old Royal Palace from all directions.

Seeing this, Cleric Cristiano's expression shifted drastically.

"Not good! They are returning to reinforce the vampire boss!"

He immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. Morin was currently leading a team into the Old Royal Palace for a decapitation strike. If all these elite vampires swarmed back in, even that "Saint" might not be able to hold them off...

"Pursue them! Everyone, pursue at full speed!"

Cleric Cristiano broke into a sprint, followed closely by the other Paladins and instruction unit soldiers.

Ludwig reacted just as quickly, piloting his Armored Knight into a heavy stride toward the palace's main gate.

The Armored Knight's stride far exceeded a human's, catching up to the retreating Blood Thralls in just a few steps.

The warhammer swept out horizontally, batting away the entire back row of fleeing vampires.

But the remaining Blood Thralls and the lone flesh construct didn't even look back, sprinting madly toward the palace interior with suicidal abandon.

Inside the main hall, the scene was a stark contrast to the ruined exterior.

The very first step Morin took through the grand doors, the sensation beneath his boots changed. It was no longer rubble and char, but something soft and yielding.

He glanced down. The entire floor was covered by a thick layer of dark red tissue. The surface was smooth and moist, slowly undulating.

Stepping on it felt... like stepping on the skin of a living creature.

The walls were the same. The once-exquisite frescoes and reliefs had all vanished, replaced by a dense network of blood vessels and irregular fleshy protrusions.

Thick veins hung from the ceiling, pulsating rhythmically.

The entire space didn't look like the interior of a palace; it resembled the digestive tract of some colossal beast.

And at the end of this "digestive tract," about eighty meters away, stood two humanoid figures.

"This is bad... feels like some kind of field magic..."

As this thought flashed through his mind, Morin halted his steps.

The 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 began trembling violently on his back the moment he entered the main hall. The golden light spilling from the scabbard nearly illuminated the entire corridor.

The voice echoed in Morin's mind once again.

"The source of evil, a familiar aura..."

Morin didn't respond to the Holy Sword; he focused entirely on what lay ahead.

A man and a woman.

The man wore a resplendent blood-red robe, gripping a pitch-black longsword.

The woman wore blood-red light armor and wielded a slightly slimmer longsword. Her features were beautiful, but her complexion was unnaturally pale.

Without a doubt, these were Ferdinand I and Queen Marie.

"Are you the Saxon who jumped from the sky?"

Ferdinand I's voice carried from the depths of the main hall. His tone sounded incredibly relaxed, bearing none of the desperation of a cornered king.

He even nodded at Morin, as if greeting him at a social gathering.

"I must say, quite daring... Back when I was in the Saxon Empire, I never knew someone like you existed..."

"Who exactly are you? State your name... Perhaps I might even know you."

Morin: "If I told you my name, it would scare you to death!"

This joking reply clearly caught Ferdinand I off guard. He never imagined that the enemy he would face for his "last dance" would be such an erratic presence.

But in reality, Morin's hand behind his back was rapidly flashing a series of tactical hand signals to Klaus and the others.

The latter understood immediately. While Morin drew the enemy's attention, Klaus directed the other Thunder Warriors to quietly deploy into combat formation, ready to follow Morin into the attack at any moment.

However, after staring at Morin's face for a few moments, Queen Marie seemed to notice something.

She leaned slightly toward Ferdinand I's ear and whispered a few words. The latter's face immediately registered surprise.

"You are Friedrich Morin? That 'Playboy of Dresden'?!"

"..."

Morin was instantly speechless. He clearly hadn't expected his reputation to have spread all the way to Romania.

Of course, what left him even more speechless was that the reputation that had "spread" was clearly nothing good...

His face darkening, he didn't reply. Instead, he raised the double-barreled shotgun in his left hand, aiming the muzzle forward.

Simultaneously, the 【Mage Hand】 hovering above his right shoulder aimed the pump-action shotgun at the two targets.

This time, before entering the main hall, he had buffed both weapons with an upcast version of 【Magic Weapon】.

The possibility of demanding a surrender had been ruled out before the campaign even began. To humans, vampires that fed on blood were clearly entities they could not coexist with.

The reverse was also true...

Ferdinand I looked at Morin in the distance, and the heavily armed team behind him, his expression remaining composed.

"Twenty-eight men... come to kill a king?"

The Romanian King suddenly smiled.

"More than four hundred years ago, the Holy See deployed fifteen Supreme Paladins just to barely seal Vlad III... Do you think you are worthy?"

Hearing this, Morin finally spoke.

"Whether we are worthy or not, we'll know after we fight."

Ferdinand I dropped his smile.

"Then let us test that."

The instant his voice faded, the atmosphere in the main hall shifted instantly. The fleshy tissues covering the walls and floor began writhing madly, as if activated by some signal.

The dark red tissue on the floor surged beneath Morin's feet, attempting to ensnare his ankles.

Morin stomped, crushing the climbing fleshy tendrils, and stepped forward to close the distance.

"Open fire! Cover me!"

Nine MG14 light machine guns roared simultaneously. Tracers of blue enchanted bullets poured toward Ferdinand I.

The Shield Guards also fired their shotguns repeatedly as they charged alongside Morin, the silver buckshot forming an impenetrable wall of lead.

However, Ferdinand I and Queen Marie simply vanished from in front of the throne in a flash. Their figures began flickering constantly throughout the main hall, completely dodging everyone's lines of fire.

Both Morin and Klaus realized the enemy was purely relying on speed to "teleport," but the problem was this speed seemed a bit too absurd...

With another flicker, Ferdinand I appeared on a raised platform to the side. A blood-red barrier rose directly in front of him, blocking all bullet attacks. Immediately following, he clenched his left hand in the air.

"Scatter—!!"

Before Morin's warning fully reached everyone's ears, the floor of the entire main hall exploded as if it had come alive.

Over a hundred "tentacles" formed from viscous blood shot up simultaneously from beneath the floor. Each was as thick as an adult's thigh, ending in spear-like points, thrusting toward the positions of Morin and the Thunder Warriors.

Klaus sidestepped a tentacle, using the momentum to slice it in half with a horizontal sweep of his greatsword. But it was like trying to sever water with a blade... The cut only bled dark red liquid, and then the severed end began to rapidly "regenerate."

"Scatter! Don't bunch up!" Klaus shouted.

The Thunder Warriors rapidly dispersed, but there were too many tentacles, constantly surging from the floor, walls, and ceiling in all directions.

The entire main hall had become a massive trap, and they were the prey that had stepped inside.

As Morin executed a backflip to dodge a tentacle strike, he drew the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 with his right hand.

The instant golden holy light erupted from the blade, all tentacles within a three-meter radius convulsed violently as if electrocuted. Emitting a "hissing" sound, they rapidly evaporated.

The 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 clearly possessed a natural suppressive effect against these extensions of the "Blood River."

Morin took note of this.

"Klaus! Pull the men out of the main hall! I'll cover you! This is their home turf! We're at too much of a disadvantage!"

With that, Morin pushed off the ground, launching himself at Ferdinand I with catapult-like speed.

The golden light from the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 forced back all tentacles around him, forging an unobstructed path.

Dozens of meters were crossed in a mere instant under Morin's full sprint.

Ferdinand I watched the golden streak of light charging at him, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Then, Queen Marie moved.

Her figure vanished from Ferdinand I's side, appearing the next second in Morin's charge path. Even when the 【Mage Hand】 fired the shotgun, she contorted her body to unscientifically dodge the cluster of buckshot.

The longsword in her hand, glowing with red light, thrust toward Morin's throat at an impossibly tricky angle and extreme speed.

It was so fast that even in his full-sprint state, Morin only had time to tilt his head to evade. The sword tip grazed his ear, severing a few strands of hair.

Maintaining his high-speed momentum, Morin executed a sudden halt and spin. He blocked horizontally with the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】, perfectly parrying Queen Marie's swift second strike.

Golden and dark red light collided violently the instant the two blades touched, erupting in a blinding halo.

Morin's arm went numb from the shock.

This woman's strength was far greater than he had anticipated, and the rapier in her hand was clearly no ordinary weapon.

Because in this instant, Morin felt a surge of pure anger radiate from the 【Thorn of the Sacred Remains】 in his hand...

"Um... senior, do you know the sword across from us?"

Listen to that. Is this a question a normal person would ask in this situation?