“So we were the first to arrive in Londinium?”

Ines frowned. Even at the furthest reach of her sharp perception, she could not detect any sign of the Duke of Wellington’s forces. Not only Wellington, but even the Duke of Caster, who had been so eager before the battle and had personally invited General Theresis into Londinium’s ranks, was nowhere to be seen.

Londinium lay not far ahead. The fog was thick today, yet the tremors shaking the earth would surely be felt within the city’s defenses.

“Your Highness, shall we fire a cannon as a signal?”

Ines turned to look at Felix seated upon the throne. During this time, she had somehow gained another “good sister.” The previous night, when she had dragged W into Felix’s bedroom, she had not been too surprised to see Miss Theresa measuring His Highness like a devoted wife, claiming she wanted to make his clothes by hand. What had surprised her slightly was the gentle smile of the Northwind Witch, Qalaiša, standing beside her.

From a woman’s intuition, Ines had long sensed that many women within Tomorrow’s Development Group harbored feelings for His Highness that went beyond loyalty. Qalaiša was one of them. Still, she had never expected Qalaiša to take the initiative and win his favor. That had caught her off guard.

With the pressure of battle mounting, Ines swiftly pushed aside thoughts of romance.

“The walls of Londinium will fall eventually. That is my promise,” Felix said calmly. “The fall of those walls will mark the end of the old era and the dawn of a new one. Activate the Yamato Cannons.”

“Yes!” Ines straightened at once.

“Have Ulšulah begin the operation and search for the enemy fleet in the air.”

Felix paused briefly. “The Duke of Wellington and the Duke of Caster have been hiding in the shadows without making a move. If they are not targeting us, then they are targeting the Military Commission.”

“What does the Military Commission possess that is unique? Perhaps only the Shard Tower’s technology. We will handle that. As for those who seek to undermine the Military Commission, endanger all of Victoria, or deliberately sow chaos for personal gain like the Duke of Wellington, we must eliminate them as soon as possible.”

“Yes, understood.”

On the screen, Ulšulah, wearing a headset, nodded vigorously before her image disappeared.

Her voice soon rang out through the communication channels. “All skyships under my command, prepare for deployment!”

Ulšulah moved into action, as did Ines and the fleet’s flagship. The battleships lined up outside Londinium and raised their primary cannons.

“All ships, prepare the Yamato Cannons!”

An air raid siren suddenly pierced the air. As the thick morning fog began to disperse, the Victoria City garrison spotted several small black dots on the distant horizon. Squinting, they could not make them out clearly until they raised binoculars. The moment they did, panic erupted.

“They’re here! Tomorrow’s Development warships have arrived!”

“Lieutenant Colonel Lettou, what should we do?”

In their confusion, they attempted to contact Lieutenant Colonel Lettou but received no response. The newly promoted squad leader took a deep breath and issued an order.

“Man the city defense cannons. Target the landships.”

“Yes!”

The defenders rushed into the weapons control room. Yet when they attempted to aim at the distant fleet, despair washed over them. The firing range of their main guns could not reach Tomorrow’s Development landships. Even if they fired, the shells would fall short without so much as scratching their hulls.

“…Damn it!” A city guard slammed his fist against the console.

“Captain, the demons have already retreated. Should we…?”

The squad leader, a man who valued survival, swallowed hard. He nodded, then shouted with a trembling voice, “Those treacherous demons have fled. We must withdraw now. If we delay any longer, it will be too late!”

The distant alarm echoed through their ears. At the sight before them, the city guards scrambled down from the walls in disarray.

The next moment—

Boom!

Several azure beams lanced across the sky and struck the city wall in an instant, followed by deafening explosions. Before the stunned eyes of the onlookers, the gray wall was bathed in a bluish-purple glow that rapidly shifted to a blazing red.

Boom!

A thunderous shockwave blasted through the nearby defenders, hurling them to the ground. Their vision blurred, their ears rang, and many residents collapsed to their knees, legs giving way beneath them.

A torrent of particles stretched for hundreds of kilometers, sweeping through the sands. The instant it collided with the wall, it erupted in a blinding flare like a solar storm. The citizens of Londinium, especially those closest to the Seventh District’s fortifications, witnessed a sight they would never forget.

The hundred-meter-high structure known as the Eternal Wall twisted like melting wax. Its alloys evaporated under the searing heat, its very substance vaporizing into a scorching mist amid the aftershocks of overwhelming energy.

In their eyes, the wall was the very symbol of Victoria, the embodiment of its unyielding spirit, a barrier that had repelled every outsider for a thousand years. And now, before countless stunned gazes, the walls of Londinium collapsed.

On the observation deck, wealthy merchants were still raising champagne glasses, laughing and gesturing animatedly as they anticipated the dukes’ triumphant march into the city and the expulsion of those despicable demons. Then they saw it—the clouds above dyed an eerie blue.

The jeweler who had taken refuge in Londinium stood frozen. This nouveau riche, who had just been bragging about the suburban estates he had purchased across several duchies, now watched helplessly as his luxury car was crushed into scrap metal by the aftershocks of the blast. Like the walls of the Seventh District, it twisted and crumpled as though kneaded by the hands of gods. Noblewomen screamed and shoved one another, fleeing in panic back into their mansions, bolting the doors and hiding in reinforced basements, clinging to the hope that the disaster would somehow pass them by.

“My insurance policy… does it cover war…?” The jeweler collapsed onto the balcony, tears welling in his eyes. If Londinium fell, would not the jewels he had brought with him be looted by the invaders?

Londinium—how had it come to this?

Grinding his teeth, he pounded the ground in fury.

“Useless! A pack of incompetents! Where was the duke’s army? Where was the Victorian garrison? They paid mountains of taxes every year, so where was the army now?”

The roar of collapsing buildings echoed up from the streets below. The century-old clock tower tilted and fell like a snapped toothpick, smashing through the air defense array established by the Military Commission.

The jeweler’s desperate expectations were soon met with a bitter irony. The Sarkaz demons they had always despised were the first to charge forward, while the Victoria City Guards hesitated, visibly shaken.

Sarkaz warriors, driving vehicles mounted with Originium cannons, led the assault out of Londinium. They cast contemptuous glances at the still-stunned defenders and spat, “A bunch of shrimp soldiers and crab generals.”

“Those who offend Londinium, I will surely crush them!”

The voice belonged to an elderly Victorian general in a dark green uniform. His expression was stern as he stood atop a steam-powered tank. “For Victoria, advance!”

Molten metal still flowed from the shattered breach in the wall, not yet cooled, when the armored torrent of Londinium’s First Army surged forth behind the Sarkaz.

Heavy steam war tanks adorned with golden pheasant emblems rumbled over the ruined masonry. Their rotating turret arrays spat tongues of flame at Tomorrow’s Development advancing vanguard.

Inside the cockpits, young soldiers gripped their controls with bloodshot eyes. There was no retreat, only life or death. Their veteran general had promised them that even if they fell in battle, their families would receive pensions equal to those of minor nobles.

As for how long they could hold, they did not know. They only hoped to drag the fight out, to force these adventurers to fall again and again before retreating. From the very beginning, they had held no faith in victory.

Soon, the two armies collided at the midpoint.

“Cheng, tear open a breach in their firing line for me!”

A blue flash streaked across the battlefield. Cheng’s longsword shattered the bulletproof glass of an armored vehicle. With a second sweep, he cleaved the first tank in two. It exploded with a deafening roar.

An explosive arrow pierced through the swirling sand and detonated behind the Victoria formation. Yanfei’s figure flickered in and out of the mist, longbow in hand. Without hesitation, she drew again, targeting the Sarkaz or Victorian tanks that threatened the front line, and loosed her arrow without pause.

Amid the raging clash, a blue-gold radiance suddenly flared above Tomorrow’s Development ranks. Victoria’s soldiers stared through their vehicle windows at the distant sky in stunned silence.

A Sankta stood upon a flying craft, holding a Lance.

“His Highness is here!”

“Damn, is he entering the battle personally?”

“The King of Dawn himself is overseeing this fight? Are we that important?”

As the players marveled, Felix moved.

With a gentle wave of his weapon, blue-gold energy spread outward from his feet, rippling across the battlefield. The dusty earth shimmered as the power surged through it.

Yanfei glanced at her status display. A new buff icon appeared beneath her health bar.

[March]

The king sounded a fierce war march, blessing all warriors with fortune in battle—increasing all attributes by fifteen percent.

“What kind of boost is that? Fifteen percent to all attributes?”

“That’s insane! Is this what real support looks like?”

“Wait, the King of Dawn is a support? I always thought he was a tank.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t been reading the Terra Times. Back in version 1.0, it clearly stated that the Pioneer were support roles.”

“Isn’t this support effect… a little too overpowered?”

“Kill them!”

As if pumped full of adrenaline, the players charged straight at the tanks. Some even leapt from their own vehicles to engage Victoria’s war machines in close combat.

The Military Commission’s convoy moved to flank them from both sides. Enemies meeting on the battlefield were bound to be ruthless, and now that Tomorrow’s Development has claimed Kazdel legitimacy, there was no room for hesitation. They raised their weapons and fired at the armored vehicles of the Tomorrow’s Development. Dark green Originium bullets struck the plating but left no visible damage. The Sarkaz driver cursed loudly. These newly developed neurotoxin Originium rounds could stimulate pain nerves through pulsing arcs, but unless they struck flesh directly, they were nearly useless.

“The drone kamikaze are here!”

“Where the hell is your Chicago piano? Bring it up and fire!”

The Hyperion’s anti-aircraft guns roared to life, targeting the dense swarm of drones overhead. Some stray rounds rained down onto the battlefield, and unlucky players shouted curses as they were accidentally sent back to respawn by friendly fire. More often, however, Victoria’s tanks were struck by the anti-aircraft barrage and obliterated on the spot.

Victoria’s heavily armored vehicles began to collapse. These steel behemoths, painted with golden pheasant patterns and once thought indestructible, now twitched and crumpled like broken marionettes. The players fought with seemingly inexhaustible stamina. Some, even when surrounded, chose to battle to the very end. The relentless ferocity cast a deep psychological shadow over the Victorian soldiers. As Caster players melted drivers and control panels into charred husks, Victoria’s morale finally broke.

The scorched earth steamed with purple mist from Originium radiation. The steel tide of the Tomorrow’s Development steadily ground down Victoria’s shattered defenses. Their proud steam-powered war machines had become little more than children’s tin toys, twisting and exploding beneath the adventurers’ savage advance.

“Retreat! Retreat!”

Victorian soldiers shouted at the top of their lungs. They abandoned armor and weapons alike, ignoring the old general’s desperate orders. They no longer cared about Sarkaz, honor, or victory. They fled as fast as they had charged in, terrified that the adventurers might pursue.

But the adventurers did not give chase. They had already encircled the members of the Military Commission.

“Kneel down and we won’t kill you!”

“Bah! You think you can make us surrender? Dream on!” The Sarkaz of the Military Commission spat back, hurling curses and profanities without restraint.

The players exchanged confused looks. The mission issued by Tomorrow’s Developments had stated that, if possible, they were to capture the Sarkaz of the Military Commission alive. In this situation, would simply destroying their vehicles be enough?

They decided to focus fire on the vehicles. A barrage of shots tore through the Sarkaz convoy. Once the machines exploded, the players dragged the surviving Sarkaz from the flames. When the Commission members continued shouting threats and vowing revenge, the players silenced them the simplest way possible—with their fists.

“Prepare to march!”

Cheng raised his voice in a thunderous roar. “Advance into Londinium! Crush the Military Commission! Give Kazdel a peaceful and prosperous future!”

“Ohhh!”

The players pounded their chests, climbed back into their armored vehicles, and sped toward Londinium.

“Your Highness, we should advance as well.”

“Mm.” Felix accepted the drink from Ines, took a sip to replenish his MP, and said, “By the way, Theresa and Kal’tsit will enter the city with me.”

“I understand. I will inform Dr. Kal’tsit immediately.”

Ines bowed.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep