episode_0068
by fnovelpia
68. Cannon Fire!
Iris Lowell was looking at Kain with worried eyes.
Rumors inherently grow flesh upon flesh. Hadn’t they said that if three people insist enough, even a non-existent dragon could be conjured? Thus, the protagonist of the rumor—existing right before their eyes— was being scrutinized suspiciously by not only the Lowell family but also every prestigious household as the so-called “heaven-sent genius” who stirred much talk.
A peculiar physique—muscular and tall, yet not an ounce of magical energy detectable. A handsome face, yet somewhat dim-witted in appearance. And now, he was…
“What tactical strategies were used in the medieval era again…?”
Murtering incomprehensible words, he was racking his brain over the most basic of problems. Namely, how to operate the weapon right before him—one whose usage he couldn’t even begin to guess.
(A cannon)
────────────────────
In the blink of an eye, two days had passed. They had managed to drag the cannon here, but the most fundamental problem was giving them a headache. Firstly, hauling the heavy cannon into effective firing range was the utmost priority.
“Just looking at it, the weight seems utterly monstrous.” “Indeed. If we mindlessly drag it forward, soldiers will die to arrow fire.”
This was a fantasy world. A mad world where arrows were infused with magical energy. Thus, pulling a cumbersome cannon forward would easily turn them into pincushions. And right now, the biggest issue was…
“Hmph! A mere commoner cannot sway the tides of war! As promised, I shall go no further than this.”
Cedric, the wallet of their alliance, had left. The one saving grace was…
“Though we are Cedric’s troops, we shall remain here. If, by some slim chance, the war’s outcome changes, Lord Cedric would bear the stigma of abandoning his mother in Romania. If Lord Raygar’s forces stay…” “Fine, do as you please!”
Fortunately, Uncle Raygar’s troops remained.
Cedric, aiming to enter Arcadia before Cecilía to manage internal affairs— No matter what anyone said, if Raygar’s troops under Cedric stayed, a miraculous victory could restore their honor. Moreover, considering Cedric’s role as the alliance’s benefactor and the risk of further investment bankrupting him… It seemed his brain wasn’t just for show.
“That idiot’s brain must’ve melted.” “I concur, my friend.”
Or perhaps not? Was there something I wasn’t seeing? Well, politics wasn’t my forte, so I set it aside… Everyone entered the tent and began the war council.
Monarchs like Erika, Cecilía, and Alvarin, of course. Generals like Vivian, Adel, Luna, Penrose, Liriana, Ellara, Taisy, Argel, and Baldrek. Uncle Raygar and his two daughters gathered together.
First, Erika briefed us.
“Cedric, who spared no expense for our supplies, has left. Sustaining the army… Yes, three days is our limit.” “Is that calculation accurate, my friend?” “Indeed. It accounts for the time to breach the walls and capture the fortress… or the supplies needed for retreat.” “I trust your brilliance.”
In short, they had to bring down the walls within three days. But with the cannon, it seemed easier than expected— except for one glaring issue.
I muttered under my breath:
“If we can just get them close enough to the thing I made…”
Everyone fell silent at my words. If they mindlessly dragged the cannon closer? They’d be riddled with magic-infused arrows.
What if elite generals like Ellara or Taisy joined forces to deflect the arrows? Feasible, but…
As I pondered, a girl bowed her head and offered advice. Iris—was that her name? Raygar’s adopted daughter? The orange-haired girl with violet eyes spoke:
“May this foolish maid offer a humble suggestion?”
Her eyes glimmered as she politely asked. I patted her shoulder and smiled.
“Speak casually.” “But…” “It’s fine. I’m a commoner too, and… well— ‘Even an eighty-year-old can learn from a three-year-old,’ right? Don’t mind status or age—just speak freely.”
Iris seemed stunned for a moment. Then, the corner of her lips curled up as she replied:
“I’ve never heard that saying before.” “Ah… really?” “But it sounds like a good one.”
Embarrassed by my presumption, I scratched my head awkwardly. Yet, emboldened, Iris confidently laid out her strategy before the warlords and generals. A simple yet shrewd plan…
────────────────────
The Lowell daughter, arrogant but sharp. Though young, her brilliant tactics earned her voice a place in the council.
“Our scouts report the enemy’s movements.” “Focus their attention here—then strike from the flank.”
And so, the plan unfolded.
“I’m back.” “Big sisterrrr♡ Our adorable Adel has returned!” “From 3,000 troops: 120 dead, 330 wounded. Three generals safely returned.”
Our precious younger siblings returned unharmed. Not just them—Cecilía’s two generals, Raygar’s forces, and even that gloomy bastard made it back. For two days, they’d assaulted the dragon’s nest ruthlessly.
“Haha! Seems they’re desperate—losing so badly!” “Hold a little longer! Victory is at hand!”
Of course, the 15-meter walls stood firm, and enemy morale soared. Yet, beside me, the petite—no, taller-than-me Iris Lowell merely chuckled.
“Only knights or generals can infuse arrows with magic. It’s not a skill ordinary soldiers possess.”
Simultaneously, she flicked open a fan and waved it before her face. As if her head were overheating—yet her expression remained utterly composed.
“No matter how sturdy, all men must rest.”
For two days, every general and soldier had attacked relentlessly. Naturally, the enemy scrambled to defend, exhausting their knights and officers. We too were weary, but the most crucial piece remained:
I gave our adorable fox his orders.
“Move out now. All generals—escort him at all costs.”
The oddly shaped weapon that promised to shatter walls. Our fox, with the generals, began dragging the cannon toward the fortress, grunting with effort. The allied generals, having conserved their strength, were relatively fresh.
“Enemies—about 20—approaching!” “Loose arrows!”
Generals with exceptional physical abilities raised massive steel shields, deflecting the arrows.
“What the—?! They’re too weak!! Are there barely any knights on the walls?!” “Taisy Wents! Show restraint and focus—don’t let the enemy provoke you!”
Leading the charge were Ellara and Taisy. The two generals swung their steel shields, parrying arrows effortlessly. Currently, they were 800 meters from the walls— well beyond the 350-meter maximum range of even longbows. Despite the elevated vantage and skilled archers raining arrows… None could breach Ellara and Taisy’s iron defense.
Granted, the knights atop the walls still tried sniping from afar, but…
“Why’s the dumbass here?!” “No one else knows how to use it!” “Turns out he’s the only one who understands ‘ballistics’ or whatever.”
Vivian, Adel, and Luna each swung their weapons, deflecting arrows. Step by step, they advanced, finally reaching the 800-meter effective range.
Their fox, straining to push the cannon forward with his body, stopped, forming a “V” with his thumb and forefinger, then overlapped them into a square. As if analyzing, he murmured while peering at the walls framed by his fingers:
“At this position, the cannon’s angle should be…”
Our fox muttered to himself while the generals frantically blocked arrows. As he adjusted the cannon, Cecilía asked me:
“Rather absurd, don’t you think, my friend? Nobles like us, risking arrow-riddled deaths, blindly following a commoner’s word into the heart of battle.”
I chuckled at her words. Who would’ve thought a former duke—now count—would depend so wholly on a commoner? From the war with Penrose to the royal ball and now this Blackdon suppression alliance… Every move was a gamble, staking lives on the back of one subordinate.
I turned to Cecilía:
“Hey, remember that question you once asked me?” “…? What question?”
She tilted her head in confusion. At the royal ball, she’d casually asked: *”By the way, Erika—do you like Kain romantically?”* Back then, I’d said *no*. Just a capable subordinate who stabilized my mind and heart—that was all. But now…
Our fox tore open the cannon’s breech, packed it with black powder, then—with Raygar’s help—lifted an iron ball and rolled it into the barrel.
*THUD*
The cast-iron sphere settled inside. Next, he struck flint against the fuse at the cannon’s rear, igniting it. The slow *hiss* of the burning fuse filled the air. Watching this, I told Cecilía:
“I think… I love our fox.” “Sudden. Unexpected.” “Just wanted to say it.”
The *sizzling* fuse grew quieter across the silent battlefield. The enemy archers, seeing us halt, stopped firing too. Likely assuming we wouldn’t advance further—no point wasting arrows.
Likewise, we had no reason to move. We simply watched the fuse burn. Or… tried to.
“EVERYONE DOWN—!!”
The fox’s yell. I thought he was overreacting. Everyone standing there felt the same.
A metal ball would fly from that hole and smash the walls. “Distant siege hammer”—that’s what he called it. Honestly, I didn’t get it. But given his track record, I trusted him blindly.
Still… Down? Really? That doubt arose—just as the fox lunged, lifting me off my feet. His large, warm, sturdy yet tenderly muscular frame. Holding me close, he slammed us both to the ground.
Simultaneously— An ear-splitting roar. The earth trembled. The sky flashed—like a thunder god’s wrath—as a colossal flame erupted.
0 Comments