The colossal roar when ‘Gungnir’ fired was completely different from the heavy, resonant sound of conventional artillery.
It was more like a sharp detonation that suddenly filled everyone’s ears, making their chests feel tight and their heads dizzy.
Even Morin, Leonia, Lucas, and the accompanying Magitech Engineers recording data, standing at a safe distance with their mouths open, felt the same chest constriction and dizziness.
Morin even saw the air in front of the muzzle visibly distort due to the intense energy release.
A ‘shell,’ trailing a long blue wake, shot up into the sky at a speed too fast for the eye to track, slicing across the vast expanse and disappearing into the clouds.
According to Colonel Lucas, this shot, fired at a relatively close range using a high-arcing ‘lofted’ trajectory, would have higher accuracy and was suitable for calling out specific fortresses.
Morin had originally wanted to ask how far ‘long range’ would be if 10 kilometers counted as ‘close range’…
However, with the firing of the ‘Gungnir,’ that question was temporarily pushed aside.
Everyone stared fixedly at the sky above Paris, waiting.
After about 20 seconds, a dazzling fireball suddenly exploded on the distant horizon, soundlessly.
Nearly half a minute later, the booming, thunder-like sound of the explosion finally arrived, accompanied by a rolling shockwave that once again shook the ground.
Immediately following, everyone saw a massive black column of smoke slowly rising on the skyline above Paris.
“Holy crap…”
Morin finally found his voice, unable to stop himself from cursing.
His mind was blank.
Was this really the effect a 305mm caliber cannon could achieve?
The power was almost comparable to the small-yield tactical nuclear weapons from his memory!
Had the Saxon Empire’s black technology developed to this extent?
After the shelling, Morin rushed into the command carriage with Colonel Lucas. The latter immediately shouted into the communicator toward the observation balloon in the sky:
“Observation Balloon! Report the impact point and damage assessment!”
The report soon came back from the observer:
“Report, Colonel! Shell missed the target! It landed… it landed about thirty meters in front of Target Fortress One!”
The observer’s voice was slightly strained due to excitement and shock.
“But… but…”
“But what? Speak quickly!” Lucas pressed anxiously.
“But the blast power seems greater than the tests! I saw the fortress’s outer rammed-earth layer… it looked like it was blown away directly by the shockwave! The gray-white material underneath—which appears to be reinforced concrete—has been exposed!”
“The diameter of the crater is estimated to be around 30 meters!”
“Hiss.”
A collective gasp echoed in the command car as they heard the figures.
Not just Morin, even Lucas himself was stunned.
Although he had witnessed test firings of the ‘Gungnir’ on the proving grounds, those were against target installations, and supposedly not with a full charge.
Now, this was a real, full-scale bombardment against actual fortress fortifications!
A thirty-meter error was considered quite accurate for a range of ten kilometers.
And yet, even with a thirty-meter miss, the mere shockwave from the explosion had directly stripped away the outer rammed-earth structure of a reinforced concrete permanent fortification?
What kind of monster had the Royal Magitech Research Institute created?
Morin also heard the report over the radio. He turned to Lucas, his eyes full of questions.
“Isn’t that power a little too outlandish?”
“I have no idea!” Colonel Lucas was equally bewildered. He scratched his head. “We urgently commissioned the ‘Odin’ for deployment. Much of the data is still incomplete; we were only told it had special efficacy against permanent fortifications.”
Morin was no longer just shocked; he was starting to feel unnerved.
He opened the system interface. Sure enough, the [Information] tab had refreshed with supplementary details about the ‘Gungnir’s’ Radiant Crystal Shell.
[Radiant Crystal Reaction Shell: A specialized munition fired by the ‘Gungnir’s’ acceleration field. The warhead is filled with a highly concentrated, highly active Radiant Crystal compound.]
[Upon impact or fuze trigger, the internal Radiant Crystal compound undergoes a violent energy reaction, creating an ultra-high temperature, ultra-high pressure energy explosion whose power far exceeds that of chemical explosives of equal mass.]
“Ultra-high temperature, ultra-high pressure… thankfully, it didn’t mention producing a chain reaction…”
Morin was at a loss for words.
Were these Saxon Mages, hiding away in the Magitech Research Institute and Mage Towers all day, actually researching things like this?
“To avoid having to personally go to the battlefield, they’ve gone all out,” he thought.
Meanwhile, inside Fortress One on the northeast side of Paris, the atmosphere was entirely different.
The violent tremor shook the entire fortress several times, and dust rained down from the ceiling.
“What happened? Were we hit?”
A Gaulish officer climbed up from the floor, asking, still shaken.
“Report, Commander! The shell landed in front of us! It didn’t hit us directly!”
A soldier from the observation post scrambled in, his face pale.
“It didn’t hit us?”
The fortress commander was stunned for a moment, then sighed in relief.
“Then why did it shake like that…”
The observation post soldier was on the verge of tears. “Sir! You must come and see! All of our outer earthworks are gone! The concrete walls are covered in cracks!”
“What?!”
The fortress commander rushed to the observation port. When he saw the sight outside, he was dumbfounded.
The rammed-earth defense layer visible below the observation port had vanished, revealing the patchy reinforced concrete walls beneath.
Those sturdy walls were now covered in spiderweb-like fine cracks, looking as if they might crumble completely at any second.
And the firing slope in front had been directly sheared away.
Thirty meters in front of the fortress, at the edge of the firing slope, a massive, deep crater, still emitting faint smoke, stood as evidence, as if a monster had taken a huge bite out of the earth.
The commander’s lips trembled. He couldn’t speak for a long time.
Had they been hit, or not?
If this was the result of a near-miss, what would happen if they took a direct hit? Wouldn’t everyone in the entire fortress be vaporized?
“Enemy attack! It’s the Saxons’ superweapon! Quick! Report to General Gallieni immediately!” The commander finally reacted, letting out a desperate yell.
However, his report was destined not to reach its destination immediately.
“‘Gungnir’, commence re-charging! Correct parameters! Prepare for the second round of shelling!”
Colonel Lucas had snapped out of his initial shock, his face now etched with fanaticism.
The Magitech Engineers inside the ‘Gungnir’ carriage, after a brief moment of shock and excitement, quickly threw themselves into the tense preparation for the next launch.
“Barrel forced cooling initiated… Magitech Engineers prepare to check acceleration runes!”
“Magic Circuit preparing to re-charge!”
“Bearing corrected…”
The chassis of the carriage housing the ‘Gungnir’ had a rotating mechanism.
When fully deployed, it could achieve a 90° arc of fire to adjust the bombardment direction.
However, the speed of adjustment for this rotating mechanism was not fast.
But this was not a problem for this colossal cannon, as the firing interval of the ‘Gungnir’ was inherently long.
“Ammunition reloaded!”
About ten minutes later, the menacing giant cannon roared with a low, strange hum once more.
“Fire!”
Another blue light tore through the air, followed by another earth-shattering boom.
This time, everyone held their breath, staring intently at the distant sky.
Morin’s heart hammered relentlessly. He even had the strange feeling that he was not witnessing an artillery barrage, but attending the judgment of the All-Father Odin.
On the distant horizon, light bloomed once more.
But this time, the light exploded precisely over the barely visible silhouette of the fortress they were targeting.
A massive fireball erupted from the horizon, staining everything around it a blinding orange-red.
Following that, a blast even more terrifying than the last arrived. The ground trembled violently, as if lamenting the fortress’s destruction.
When the dust and smoke from the explosion cleared slightly, the observer saw that the position they had been targeting—the reinforced concrete fortification temporarily named ‘Fortress One’—had completely vanished from the fortress cluster.
In its place was a gigantic, terrifying scar in the middle of the cluster.
“Hit…” the observer on the observation balloon reported with a trembling voice. “Fortress One… confirmed destroyed.”
The entire position fell into a dead silence.
All the Saxon soldiers stared blankly at the rising column of smoke in the distance, their minds numb.
Was this the ultimate weapon of the Empire?
“Hahaha… ha ha ha ha!”
Colonel Lucas suddenly burst into wild laughter. He vigorously slapped Morin on the shoulder like a child who had received a beloved toy.
“Captain Morin, did you see that! That is the ‘Odin’! That is the ‘Gungnir’!”
Morin nodded, still reeling from the shock, while his thoughts rapidly began to shift.
Is this the limit of power for a Radiant Crystal Reaction Shell?
If the charge were further increased, what level could it reach?
Meanwhile, on another road outside Paris, a Gaulish army retreating at full speed also witnessed the two earth-shattering explosions.
“General! Look!” a staff officer pointed toward the sky in the northeast, his voice filled with terror.
Gallieni, in his general’s uniform, violently reined in his horse, then raised his binoculars toward the direction the staff officer pointed.
When he saw the gigantic mushroom cloud, and the silhouette of the Saxon Armored Airship in the distant sky, his heart instantly sank to the bottom.
“It’s the Saxons… they’ve reached the gates of Paris,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
He soon led a few staff officers to a high point from where he could see the outskirts of Paris.
There, he saw the perimeter fortress cluster with a massive crater punched through it.
Although he didn’t know what caused such terrifying destruction, he recognized the Armored Airship in the sky.
It was over.
Everything was over.
General Gallieni lowered his binoculars, all color drained from his face.
The defense line he had desperately constructed by gathering resources and manpower, the ‘Sentinels’ left to guard Paris, and the strategy to buy time with space…
All seemed so fragile and inadequate in the face of the Saxons’ overwhelming firepower.
“General, we cannot return to Paris!”
The Chief of Staff rushed up to him, his voice urgent:
“If the Saxons’ attack continues, the fortresses on the outskirts of Paris cannot hold them! If we go back now, we are walking straight into a trap!”
“Yes, General!”
Another staff officer pleaded:
“Haven’t the Premier and the government departments already evacuated to Bordeaux? We should head south immediately and rendezvous with them! As long as the government remains, the Republic still has hope!”
“Retreat? Where else can we retreat to?”
Gallieni gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“I am the Commandant of Paris Defense! My duty is to protect Paris! Now the enemy is at the gates, and you ask me to abandon the city, abandon the people inside, and run away like a coward?”
His voice was filled with grief and despair.
“But General! Everyone who could leave the capital has already left! It’s an empty city!”
The Chief of Staff was sweating profusely, terrified that his General still intended to hold out until death.
“Your staying here will not change anything! You will only sacrifice yourself in vain! You are a veteran of the Republic. As long as you are alive, we can reorganize the resistance!”
“Enough!” Gallieni violently waved his hand, cutting him off.
He looked back at Paris, the city where he had lived his entire life, the capital that symbolized Gaulish honor and civilization.
He could almost hear the cries of the citizens inside and see the Saxon Black Eagle banner fluttering atop the Eiffel Tower.
A tremendous sense of helplessness and shame instantly consumed him.
He thought of the disastrous defeat in the Saxo-Gallic War, the humiliating treaty of surrender and indemnities, and the years the Gallic Republic had struggled to survive under the shadow of defeat.
Would history repeat itself yet again?
“General, please consider the greater good!”
“General! We cannot do without you!”
The staff officers around him almost sobbed as they knelt, hugging his legs, preventing him from taking another step toward Paris.
Gallieni looked at these subordinates who had followed him for years, at their faces contorted by fear and anxiety, and his last shred of resolve finally began to waver.
Yes, what good would it do for him to stay?
Lead the remaining shattered troops in a hopeless urban battle in the streets of Paris?
What purpose would that serve, other than increasing senseless casualties and reducing the beautiful city to ashes?
Perhaps they were right.
As long as he was alive, as long as the framework of the Republic’s army remained, there would always be a chance to return and fight another day.
After a long moment, Gallieni closed his eyes, and two lines of murky tears slid down his wrinkled cheeks.
“Adjust the route…”
He squeezed the words out through clenched teeth, using all his remaining strength.
“The entire army turns… toward Bordeaux.”
After speaking, he slumped onto the ground, as if all the vitality had been drained from him.
Not all staff officers possessed the resolve to make Paris their grave.
Faced with the threat of death, the instinct for survival had overwhelmed everything else.