The entire team, guided by the “blessed” flamethrowers, automatic weapons, and the “scepters” of the priests, advanced toward their target with difficulty but determination, like a battleship cutting through waves in a black ocean.
Morin himself didn’t know how long it took them to cover this distance of over a hundred meters.
When they finally rushed to the entrance of the massive underground catacomb, everyone was stunned by the terrifying sight inside.
It was a bottomless spiral staircase, and countless skeletons were densely crawling upward from below, layer upon layer, like a giant worm composed of bones, drilling out from the depths of hell.
“Holy crap, six million of them didn’t all come alive, did they… Quick! Set the explosives!” Morin roared at the soldiers of the demolition team.
Hearing him, Archbishop Maurice and several priests, like gods descending to earth, wielded their “scepters” and smashed through the final skeletons.
They then used the flails and kite shields in their hands to form a small defensive line, firmly blocking the skeletons pouring out of the entrance.
The demolition soldiers dared not delay either. They immediately slung their submachine guns behind their backs, rushed forward with the satchels of explosives, stuffing them into the crevices of the stone walls and load-bearing pillars on both sides of the catacomb entrance, then quickly connected the fuses.
“Done! Battalion Commander! Ready to detonate!”
“Everyone! Fall back! Fall back immediately!” Morin shouted.
The light machine gunners immediately concentrated fire to shatter a wave of charging skeletons, while Maurice and the others quickly retreated, following Morin and the rest toward the trucks in the rear.
Meanwhile, the demolition experts lit the fuses.
Once everyone had retreated to a safe distance, the fuses of the satchel charges burned down completely.
“BOOOM—!!!”
With an earth-shattering roar, the entire Denfert-Rochereau Square shook violently.
The massive explosion instantly shattered the structure at the catacomb entrance; the sturdy stone architecture collapsed under the force of the high explosives.
Countless rubble and dirt completely buried the entrance that seemed to lead deep underground.
“It’s collapsed!”
“Did we succeed?”
The soldiers of Company 1 let out a cheer of relief.
However, Archbishop Maurice showed no hint of joy on his face.
Looking at the ruins filled with explosives and dust, he walked over to Morin, who was replacing an ammunition belt box, shook his head, and said in a deep voice, “Captain, I think we shouldn’t celebrate too soon. We’ve only blocked the main entrance and exit of the catacombs, and this will only slow down their speed of reaching the surface.”
“Archbishop, what do you mean?” Morin asked, puzzled.
“The Paris Catacombs are like a giant anthill; they cover too vast an area…”
“Furthermore, since the construction of the subway began decades ago, many subway lines were directly connected to the catacombs for construction convenience, using the space in the tombs to store materials… So, theoretically, it’s impossible for us to seal all the exits.”
Maurice’s words made Morin realize that they couldn’t truly relax yet.
“Then what do we do now…”
“Any delay we can achieve is worthwhile.”
Maurice sighed, casting his gaze toward the west of the city, his eyes filled with worry.
“The undead from the catacombs will continue to pour out, so we must deal with the source before they completely overwhelm all of Paris.”
Morin followed his gaze. The distant Eiffel Tower was still flashing with electrical light, as if its power was endless… Just then, the roar of an engine sounded in the sky again.
Armored Airship No. L29 had completed resupply and rejoined the battle.
Circling above Paris, it began a devastating bombardment of the largest skeleton gathering areas on the ground, using its 203mm naval cannons and air-dropped high-explosive bombs.
Huge fireballs erupted on the ground, turning hundreds of thousands of skeletons into dust in the explosions.
The powerful aerial fire support immediately stabilized the temporary defensive lines established by the Saxon soldiers within the city.
However, the overall progress of citizen evacuation was slower than everyone had anticipated.
The main reason was the language barrier. When the Saxon soldiers tried to persuade the Gaulish citizens hiding in their homes to evacuate, using a few phrases of Gaulish they had just learned… these Gaulish citizens often handed out their valuable jewelry and food, then retreated back inside.
Only when the clergy from Notre-Dame de Paris intervened did these Gaulish citizens realize they had misunderstood.
But the problem was that there were only so many clergy members at Notre-Dame de Paris, and most of them were busy applying buffs to the Saxon soldiers on various temporary defensive lines, so these efforts were merely a drop in the bucket.
Looking at the sea of skeletons still gathering on the streets of Western Paris, even Colonel Schneider, who was in the relatively safe air, felt his scalp prickle.
While commanding the Armored Airship to provide fire support to the ground forces, he mentally urged Colonel Lucas’s Armored Train to move faster.
The ‘Odin’ was certainly not wasting time. Besides the gun crews operating the four 150mm naval cannons bombarding the city, the other Magitech Engineers and engineers were frantically working on the mode conversion.
However, converting ‘Gungnir’ from its First Mode to its Second Mode was a relatively complex task, involving replacing core components.
Furthermore, the crew of the ‘Odin’ was performing this work under such high pressure, so it was inevitable that glitches would occur and cause delays.
As night slowly fell, Archbishop Maurice informed Morin, based on his estimate of the number of citizens evacuated, that the progress was not even halfway complete.
And the face of this Archbishop of the Paris Suburbs became unprecedentedly grave as the last ray of sunlight vanished beneath the horizon.
He walked over to Morin and said gravely, in a voice only the two of them could hear, “Captain Morin, be ready.”
“Tonight will be the most dangerous night.”
When the last afterglow of the sun completely disappeared beneath the western horizon of Paris, the entire city seemed to be suddenly covered by a massive black cloth.
Inside the Eiffel Tower, on the Second Floor Main Control Hall.
Chardonnet, who had been resting with his eyes closed, seemingly merged with the entire colossal tower, suddenly opened his eyes.
A nearly insane, sickly smile appeared on his face.
“The night… has finally arrived.”
He stretched out his withered hands, as if embracing the entire dark world.
“My dearest friends, it is time… to let those mortals witness the true art of death!”
During the day, he could only use the Third-Circle Spell, [Animate Dead], to awaken the century-old skeletons.
But now, during the night when negative energy was most active, he could finally cast the Sixth-Circle Spell he had waited all day for—[Create Undead]—without restraint.
He controlled the core of the colossal tower with his mental power, then poured the abundant magic power within the tower into the complex spell model.
“In the name of Death, and by the witness of Eternal Darkness…”
“Blah, blah, blah…”
“Rise, dead ones! Fight for me!”
The next second, within the coverage area of the Eiffel Tower, a sudden transformation occurred on the streets that had been ravaged and littered with corpses by the skeleton army!
The citizens killed by skeletons during the day—their already stiffening corpses—suddenly began to twitch violently.
Their skin turned gray and began to rot at a visible rate. Their nails and teeth grew wildly, becoming sharp like those of beasts.
Pairs of previously closed eyes snapped open, containing no human emotion, only an endless, ravenous hunger for the flesh and blood of the living!
“Roar—!”
Accompanied by inhuman roars, one corpse after another stumbled out of the blood and piles of bodies.
Ghouls and wights… these undead creatures, much harder to deal with than skeletons, were also driven by Chardonnet’s will, casting their greedy and malevolent gazes toward the distant defensive lines constructed by the living.
The night completely swallowed Paris.
For the soldiers of the Saxon First Army Group, if they managed to return alive, this would definitely be an unforgettable night.
And they would certainly have bragging rights for a lifetime with their descendants.
“Roar!”
An inhuman roar came from the second-floor window of an apartment building across the street.
A Saxon machine gunner, who was exchanging fire with the skeletons behind a makeshift barricade constructed of sandbags and furniture, subconsciously looked up.
Immediately afterward, a gray figure smashed through the glass, leaped from the second floor, and crashed heavily onto the ground in front of the barricade.
It was a regular Gaulish civilian who had died that afternoon, but terrifying changes had now occurred in his body.
His skin was an ominous grayish-white, his limbs supported his body at twisted angles, his nails were long and black, and when he opened his mouth, he didn’t show teeth, but rows of sharp fangs.
“What the hell is that thing?!” the assistant gunner screamed in terror.
The machine gunner didn’t reply; he just squeezed the trigger of the MG14 tightly, unleashing a whip-like trajectory of bullets onto the monster that had just gotten up.
“Da-da-da-da-da!”
Bullets tore bloody holes into the undead creature known as a ghoul, splashing foul, dark green liquid everywhere.
However, the monster seemed completely unaffected. It merely roared, dropped to all fours, and charged toward the machine gun position at an astonishing speed.
Its speed was far greater than that of the stumbling skeletons.
“Quick! Grenades! Stop it!” the machine gunner roared at the riflemen beside him while replacing the spent ammunition belt.
Several soldiers fumbled to pull the pins on their grenades and threw them at the monster.
“Boom! Boom!”
The blast wave knocked the ghoul to the ground, but it only rolled twice before getting back up.
One of its arms had been blown off, yet it fiercely lunged at the nearest soldier.
The soldier didn’t even have time to scream before being tackled, his throat instantly ripped open by sharp claws.
Blood gushed out, staining the monster’s face red.
The surrounding Saxon soldiers were stunned. These newly appearing monsters were completely different from the bone piles that shattered with a single shot!
Similar scenes unfolded along every defensive line held by Saxon soldiers inside Paris.
The ghouls and wights, hidden within the endless sea of skeletons, became the nightmare of the Saxon soldiers.
Some utilized their superhuman climbing ability to silently scale buildings.
Then they would drop from above, smashing directly into the soldiers’ positions, causing massive confusion and casualties.
Others used skeletons as cover, approaching stealthily before launching deadly surprise attacks at close range.
Suddenly, the defensive lines that had stabilized once again became precarious.
The Saxon soldiers discovered that their firepower advantage was greatly diminished against these new enemies with extremely tenacious vitality.
It often required concentrated fire or close-range grenade bombardment to completely kill a single ghoul.
The rarer wights were even more troublesome.
They even retained some of their former intelligence, knowing how to command skeletons to perform feints, creating opportunities for their own surprise attacks.
To make matters worse, ammunition for all participating units had been heavily depleted after an entire day of fighting.
Many light machine gun teams dared not fire freely anymore, which significantly lowered the density of their firepower.
The 9th Arrondissement of Paris, near a street intersection close to Galeries Lafayette.
Kleist’s Fourth Company was facing unprecedented pressure.
Black masses of undead armies were pouring in from streets in over five directions, mixed with a large number of swift-moving ghouls.
“Grenadiers! Throw all your precious toys out there! Don’t spare them!”
Kleist, hiding behind a truck used as cover, roared at several soldiers nearby.
“Company Commander! We’re almost out! We only have the last two crates left!”
“Then throw them all! Machine Gun Team! Suppress the street on the left! Don’t let them charge through!”
Kleist’s face was smeared with black dust and blood of unknown origin. His throat was raw from shouting, but he desperately continued commanding his soldiers.
Not only did they have to resist the undead attack, but they also had to cover the Parisian citizens constantly running out of buildings behind them, crying and begging for help.
Ironically, as invaders, they had now become the sole protectors of these civilians in the city.
Just as the defensive line was about to be breached, several First Army Group Radiant Crystal Vehicles, headlights blazing and horns blaring, roared up from behind them.
The trucks screeched to a halt not far from the defensive line. A group of clergy, wearing chainmail and plate armor, and holding various “scepters,” jumped down from the flatbeds.
Leading them was Auxiliary Bishop Troyes.
“Quick! Distribute the Holy Water and Holy Oil!”
As soon as Auxiliary Bishop Troyes got out of the truck, he gave orders to the priests behind him.
Large wooden barrels filled with clear liquid and cans of paste-like Holy Oil emitting a strange fragrance were unloaded from the trucks.
They had brought out all the Holy Oil and Holy Water stored inside Notre-Dame de Paris… even the water from the wash basins at the church entrance was taken.
“Attention, all soldiers! These are clergy from the Paris Archdioceses! They are here to help us!”
Kleist’s morale soared upon seeing the reinforcements, and he immediately shouted to his soldiers.
The armed priests, led by Troyes, began performing a simple blessing ceremony.
They sprinkled Holy Water onto the Saxon soldiers and smeared Holy Oil onto their firearms and bullets.
A young priest even poured an entire barrel of Holy Water into the cooling jacket of an MG08 heavy machine gun.
“Hey! What are you doing! That’s cooling water!”
The machine gunner was startled; he didn’t know what this cleric was doing.
“Don’t worry, child.”
The priest patted his shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.
“The Lord will bless your bullets and completely purify these defiled things.”
After completing the “blessing,” Auxiliary Bishop Troyes led his men directly to the front of the defensive line, forming a steel barricade with their bodies and weapons.
“For the Lord! Purify the evil!”
Accompanied by roars, the flails and “scepters” in their hands, carrying a holy shimmer, smashed viciously into the horde of undead.
The ghouls, which had been incredibly fierce just moments before, were as fragile as paper against these blessed weapons.
The clergy of the Holy See were undeniably the MVPs of this Night of the Dead.
Thanks to the addition of this new force, the pressure on the Fourth Company suddenly decreased.
The Saxon soldiers, catching their breath, also found that the power of their weapons had greatly increased after being “blessed.”
Bullets smeared with Holy Oil caused a burning effect when they entered a ghoul’s body, greatly increasing their lethality.
For a moment, the tide of the entire battle seemed to have turned back in their favor.
However, just as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, several heavy footsteps echoed from the depths of the distant sea of undead.
“Boom… boom… boom…” The sound made the entire ground tremble slightly.