At this instant, time seemed to be drawn out into slow motion.
“Boom!”
A visible white cold current frantically diffused outwards in a perfect spherical shape.
The moisture in the air instantly condensed into ice crystals. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything was covered by a thick layer of white frost in the blink of an eye. Within a radius of twenty meters, it instantly turned into a frozen hell.
“Ah!”
Shrill screams rose and fell, but quickly stopped abruptly.
Those instruction unit soldiers at the center of the explosion didn’t even have time to react before they were frozen into ice statues in the bone-chilling extreme cold, expressions of shock and pain still frozen on their faces.
Their bodies became stiff and fragile; a slight touch could shatter them into a pile of ice slag.
Although the soldiers on the periphery were not frozen to death on the spot, they also suffered severe frostbite.
The temperature in Paris in early 1915 wasn’t high, so the instruction unit soldiers all wore padded coats, but facing this kind of flash-freezing magical damage, they still couldn’t hold on.
The cold air penetrated their clothing and invaded their bone marrow, making their movements sluggish and stiff. Exposed skin rapidly turned purple and necrotic.
Morin felt like he had been thrown into a giant liquid nitrogen tank; the biting chill almost froze the blood in his entire body.
The [Mage Armor] on him could not provide any protection against this pure magical attack.
He could feel his body temperature rapidly draining, and his limbs began to grow numb.
Relying entirely on a physique far exceeding ordinary people’s, he barely managed not to fall on the spot.
He watched helplessly as the number in the “Personnel” column of the green unit card representing their own forces on the system map directly changed to 40/75.
In other words, the [Otiluke’s Freezing Sphere] just now directly killed 35 of their soldiers in this narrow passage.
These were all veterans who had fought their way through the battlefield with Morin… They were battle brothers who were still joking with him a few days ago, saying they would go back to Dresden and drink to their hearts’ content when the war ended!
Now, they were just gone like this.
An indescribable fury and intense pain violently exploded from Morin’s chest, making his vision go black, almost planting him face-first onto the ground.
“Britannia!”
Kahn’s roar echoed in the cold passage, his eyes so red they looked like they could drip blood.
He saw an old soldier he had spent day and night with beside him get frozen into an ice statue just now, and then get hit by a stray bullet, shattering into ice chunks all over the ground.
“Kill them! Avenge our brothers!”
“Fire! Fire—!”
In this chaos and despair, the surviving veterans of the instruction unit’s 1st Company displayed an astonishing will to fight that even Morin hadn’t anticipated.
They didn’t collapse, they didn’t rout.
After experiencing the initial shock and pain, these warriors who crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood almost instinctively stabilized their footing again.
Those soldiers on the periphery who were less affected, enduring the intense pain brought by frostbite, spontaneously formed a new defense line, pouring firepower frantically toward the enemies on both sides with the automatic weapons in their hands.
“Hold the line!”
“Suppressive fire! Don’t let them charge over!”
“I’m reloading! Cover me!”
And in this chaos, the two figures carrying giant fuel tanks instead became the least affected people.
Due to the particularity of their equipment, the thick fireproof suits worn by the flamethrower soldiers also had excellent effects in isolating temperature.
Although they felt that biting chill, the damage they suffered was much smaller than the others.
And these former firefighters didn’t even have the slightest hesitation. The instant the cold current erupted, they completely entrusted their backs to their comrades behind them, and then maintained the nozzles of their flamethrowers, aiming at those “Sentinels” attempting to charge in the chaos.
“Boom! Boom!”
Two frenzied dragons of fire once again roared and tore through the cold air, rendering the entire passage into an expanse of orange-red.
Scorching flames and bone-chilling frost formed a sharp contrast at this moment.
This area-of-effect weapon, coordinated with the dense fire net woven by automatic weapons, displayed unparalleled suppressive power at this moment.
The flames licked the icy walls, making “sizzle” sounds, raising large swaths of water vapor, instantly making the entire passage misty.
Those “Sentinels” who had originally charged close were also blocked by the wall of fire.
What surprised everyone even more was that the tenacious vitality of these “Sentinels” didn’t seem so tenacious in the face of the flames.
Several “Sentinels” charging at the very front couldn’t stop their steps in time and crashed headlong into the wall of fire.
“Roar!”
A shrill, inhuman roar sounded. A raging fire instantly ignited on that “Sentinel’s” body.
He rolled and struggled frantically on the ground, trying to put out the flames on his body. But that radiant crystal fuel, mixed with a special alchemical potion, once attached, was like maggots in the tarsus, simply unable to be extinguished.
In just a few short seconds, like the reckless fools before them, they were burned into charred humanoid charcoal.
“It works! This thing is especially effective at burning them!” a flamethrower soldier yelled excitedly.
“Then burn them to death!”
Kahn roared and emptied the last bullet in his magazine, then pulled a stick grenade from his waist, bit off the fuse cap, and threw it towards the “Sentinels.”
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
Several grenades exploded consecutively in front of the “Sentinels.” Although they didn’t cause direct casualties, the blast waves from the explosions successfully stalled their charge.
Watching this scene, Morin also analyzed rapidly in his heart.
Why did flamethrowers have miraculous effects on these second-generation “Sentinels”?
Was there some flaw in their body structure?
Or did that frenzied negative energy in their bodies have some special reaction with the flames?
It’s just that no one could answer this question right now.
And according to the “Sentinels'” combat logic, under normal circumstances, when encountering this kind of unit with fierce long-range firepower… their most effective tactic was to rapidly close the distance, and then use a spell like [Steel Wind Strike] that combined displacement and lethality to directly charge into the enemy formation and slaughter.
But the problem was, the effective casting distance of [Steel Wind Strike] was 30 feet, which is almost 10 meters.
And the effective range of this modified military flamethrower equipped by the instruction unit was a full 20-25 meters!
This meant that if the “Sentinels” wanted to charge over and release [Steel Wind Strike], they had to first forcefully charge through 10 meters of death distance against flames that could burn them to cinders.
This was also why, shortly after engaging, multiple “Sentinels” were burned to death.
And after suffering consecutive losses, the remaining “Sentinels,” driven by their combat logic, took off the weapons on their backs for the first time and began to exchange fire with the instruction unit soldiers from outside the safe distance.
Meanwhile, the instant the [Otiluke’s Freezing Sphere] exploded, when everyone’s attention was drawn by the battle ahead, Heinrich moved.
The chaotic battlefield was this old fox’s best stage.
Just as the instruction unit soldiers were fighting desperately, Victor von Heinrich, who had been playing the role of “victim” and “collaborator” at the rear of the team, finally stopped acting.
The cold current of [Otiluke’s Freezing Sphere] similarly affected him. The bone-chilling extreme cold made his already aged body tremble, and a layer of white frost rapidly covered his face.
But unlike those frozen ordinary soldiers, in the eyes of this Tier-5 Necromancy School master, not only was there not the slightest pain, but instead an almost morbidly excited light flashed.
The opportunity had come!
He had waited for this opportunity for too long.
From the moment he was blocked in the Monitoring Center by this group of Saxon barbarians, he had been calculating how to get away.
Cooperate with them? Hand over the core technology of the “Sentinel Project” to the Saxon Empire?
You must be joking.
How could he, Victor von Heinrich, return to that country that once betrayed him, and wag his tail begging for mercy from those who treated him as an expendable pawn?
What he wanted was freedom! Absolute freedom that allowed him to continue his great research without any constraints!
And this chaos before him was the best cover for his escape.
“Now is the time!”
Heinrich roared in his heart. Almost the instant the cold current reached his body, he released the spell he had prepared long ago.
[Vampiric Touch]
A mass of visible shadow energy instantly wrapped around his right hand. That hand became like obsidian, emitting an ominous aura.
The two Section III intelligence personnel responsible for “supporting” him didn’t realize the arrival of danger at all.
Their attention was completely drawn by the tragic scene ahead and the suddenly erupting battle. They even subconsciously pulled Heinrich behind them, trying to protect this “important target.”
What a laughable action.
The corners of Heinrich’s mouth curved into a cruel arc.
His hands, seemingly unintentionally, rested lightly on the arms of the two intelligence personnel on his left and right.
“Ugh…”
The two intelligence personnel simultaneously let out a brief muffled grunt. Their bodies violently stiffened, and the blood on their faces faded at a visible speed, replaced by a deathly, ashen pallor.
They didn’t even have time to scream before feeling all the strength and vitality in their bodies being frantically drained away through the point of contact with those terrifying black hands.
Their bodies rapidly shriveled up, their skin losing its luster and elasticity. In just two or three seconds, the two originally living burly men collapsed on the ground due to necrotic damage.
And Heinrich let out a groan of satisfaction.
Streams of warm and pure life energy continuously poured into his body through [Vampiric Touch].
The injuries on his body caused by freezing, nourished by this life force, recovered at an astonishing speed.
The white frost on his face rapidly receded, and his originally somewhat stiff limbs regained their flexibility.
“Truly… a wonderful feeling.” Heinrich greedily took a deep breath, a bloodthirsty light flashing in his cloudy eyes.
All this happened in a flash of lightning.
The people around, including Fritz Haber, an academic mage with combat experience roughly equal to zero, didn’t react.
When Master Haber noticed the anomaly beside him and turned around, he only saw those two intelligence personnel had already fallen to the ground, turning into a terrifying appearance he had only seen in textbooks.
“You… what did you do?!” Master Haber pointed at Heinrich in terror, his voice trembling.
He never imagined that this old mage, who was just negotiating a deal with them moments ago, would suddenly strike such a vicious blow.
“What did I do?”
Heinrich grinned, revealing a mouthful of teeth that looked somewhat pale after being nourished by life force.
“Of course I’m… taking back a little bit of what belongs to me.”
His gaze, bypassing the horrified Master Haber, fell on that briefcase in his hands.
Inside, there were three perfect second-generation “Sentinel” modification potions.
That was the crystallization of his lifelong research, his greatest capital to regain freedom and even stage a comeback!
He would not allow this thing to fall into the hands of the Saxons!
“Now, it’s your turn, my dear ‘junior’~”
Heinrich’s gaze locked back onto Master Haber, that look, like looking at a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
The shadow energy in his hands disappeared, and then he raised his bone staff. The green gemstone on the staff head lit up with an evil light.
Another deadly spell was brewing in his mouth.
[Negative Energy Flood]
He was going to use this Tier-5 Necromancy School spell to kill this meddlesome Saxon mage before him and turn him into a zombie, so no one could stop him anymore.
Master Haber felt that suffocating aura of death. He was so scared his face was deadly pale, his mind going blank.
He wanted to cast a spell to counterattack, but found his body didn’t obey his commands at all.
He wanted to run away, but found his legs were like lead, unable to move.
In the face of absolute power and the threat of death, this genius scholar who had always stayed in the ivory tower finally experienced what true despair was.
“It’s over…”
Master Haber tremblingly raised his hand, trying to make a final counterattack.
But just at this critical moment, a ghost-like shadow, carrying a suffocating murderous aura, charged fiercely toward him.
“You dare!”
It was Morin!
He had been distracting himself to pay attention to the situation in the rear. The moment Heinrich turned red, he had already noticed the threat behind him.
When he turned his head and saw those two intelligence personnel sucked into mummies, and Heinrich aiming at Master Haber, the anger in his heart was completely ignited.
Master Haber could not die!
Morin, like an enraged bull, lowered his head and charged towards Heinrich’s direction!
Heinrich was shocked seeing this scene because Morin’s movements were simply too fast.
He was clearly just commanding and shooting in the distance moments ago, yet now he had charged right in front of him.
So he immediately adjusted his strategy and changed his target to Morin.
“Hmph! Looking to die?!”
Heinrich sneered in his heart.
He admitted this young Lieutenant Colonel’s fighting will was astonishing, but will, in the face of absolute power, was worthless.
Taking a Tier-5 [Negative Energy Flood] head-on?
Even those knights of the Vatican Holy See with extremely high resistance to negative energy would die without a doubt if they didn’t activate extra protection!
Not to mention, you are just a brute who isn’t even wearing a mage robe!
Heinrich no longer hesitated, violently spitting out the last syllable in his mouth.
And the running Morin, a magical glimmer also flashed in his raised hand.
[Counterspell]
Critical failure!
“F*ck!”
Morin only had time to let out an exclamation. A visible black flood composed of pure negative energy, like a poisonous snake striking from its hole, spewed out from the top of Heinrich’s bone staff, carrying the unique dark aura of negative energy, shooting precisely at the charging Morin!
[Shield] and [Mage Armor] had almost no effect against this kind of pure negative energy damage.
The instant the spell hit, Morin felt his chest as if violently bitten by a poisonous snake.
Immediately after, an indescribable intense pain and corrosive sensation frantically spread from where he was hit.
That feeling was like having strong acid poured all over him; his flesh, bones, and even his soul were being frantically eroded and dissolved.
“Ugh, ah!”
Morin couldn’t help letting out a painful roar, his charging momentum also stalling.
He felt his consciousness rapidly blurring, his vitality draining frantically.
“Did I go too far…”
Just when Morin felt he couldn’t hold on anymore, that “Guardian Necklace” hanging around his neck suddenly erupted with a soft and warm white light.
[Effect 1: Wearer’s saving throws are improved]
This white light, like an invisible shield, instantly diffused over his entire body.
That frenzied and evil negative energy that had invaded his body, the instant it came into contact with this layer of white light, its power was weakened by more than half out of thin air!
“Holy sh*t… Once again, I solemnly thank the Britannian mage for the gift!”
Morin, realizing what had happened, had his spirits lifted. Although the intense pain in his chest still existed, it had dropped from the category of “completely unbearable” to “bearable.”
The instinct to survive and the fury in his chest overwhelmed everything at this moment.
His footsteps only paused slightly before stepping out again, his speed even faster than before!
“How is this possible?!”
The smug smile on Heinrich’s face froze.
He watched helplessly as that young Lieutenant Colonel, after taking a Tier-5 spell from him head-on, not only wasn’t eroded into a mutilated corpse by the frenzied negative energy, but instead, like nothing happened, continued to charge toward him.
What was that white light that flashed around his neck?
A protective spell? A divine art? Or some special magical item?
Heinrich didn’t have time to think deeply. He raised his hand, simultaneously opening his mouth to chant, preparing to continue releasing [Ray of Enfeeblement].
But Morin had already charged right in front of him.
That young face, looking somewhat twisted due to intense pain and anger, those eyes burning with raging fire, as if wanting to swallow him alive.
“So what if you’re a f*cking Tier-5 mage!”
Morin growled through gritted teeth, his voice somewhat hoarse from the intense pain.
“Smack!”
A crisp, loud slap seemed exceptionally abrupt amidst the chaotic gunfire and artillery.
Using all his strength, Morin landed a solid, massive slap on Heinrich’s wrinkle-filled old face.
This slap was more insulting than any vicious curse.
Heinrich was completely slapped silly.
He had lived for over ninety years. From an obscure Necromancy apprentice, he climbed all the way to the position of a top mage in the Saxon Empire, and then directed the “Sentinel Project” in a foreign land, turning from a prisoner into an honored guest of the Gauls.
He had experienced countless great storms and waves, and seen all kinds of enemies.
But he swore he never imagined in his life that one day he would have his spellcasting interrupted in such a brutal manner.
He felt half his face go numb, his ears ringing, a taste of rust in his mouth, and several loose teeth mixed with blood flew out.
More importantly, the next spell brewing in his mouth was forcefully slapped back by this slap. The magical backlash made his chest tight, almost making him spit out a mouthful of old blood.
However, this was not the end.
Just as Heinrich was beaten until he saw stars and hadn’t recovered his wits, Morin’s other hand, like iron pincers, grabbed his right hand that was preparing to make gestures.
Then, interlocking their fingers.
This completely eliminated any possibility of him casting spells through gestures.
“You wicked old geezer!”
Before his voice faded, he violently raised his knee and kneed Heinrich fiercely in the lower abdomen.
“Ugh!”
Heinrich let out a painful muffled grunt, his whole body arching like a cooked shrimp.
Immediately after, Morin smoothly executed a small combo of grappling techniques he had practiced countless times.
Disarm, armlock, reverse lock, takedown!
The entire process was completed in one go, so silky smooth it dazzled the eyes.
“Thud!”
Heinrich’s old and fragile body was pressed heavily onto the cold metal floor by Morin. His face had an intimate contact with the ground, making a muffled sound.
The bone staff also flew out of his hand and rolled aside.
This Tier-5 Necromancy School master with a complex identity was completely subdued by a young officer using the most simple and brutal physical method.
The surviving Section III Captain nearby was dumbfounded.
And Master Haber, who had just taken a trip to the gates of hell, also opened his mouth wide, looking blankly at this magical realism scene before him.
A mage… a Tier-5 Archmage… was just taken down by a massive slap?
This is too…
“Master Haber! Stop f*cking daydreaming! Crowd control!”
Pressing down on Heinrich, Morin felt the intense pain in his chest getting stronger and stronger. He knew he couldn’t hold out for long and had to end the battle as soon as possible.
He turned his head and roared at Master Haber, who was still dazed.
This roar finally called Master Haber’s soul back.
“Ah? Oh! Okay! Okay!”
Master Haber woke up as if from a dream. Looking at the chaotic battlefield before him, he forced himself to calm down from the massive shock and fear.
He knew now was not the time to be dazed.
Master Haber took a deep breath, pushed up the glasses that had slipped somewhat on the bridge of his nose, and the gaze behind the lenses became as sharp as a blade for the first time.
Although he was an “academic mage,” although he had never experienced such bloody and cruel combat…
He was ultimately the youngest “Master” in the Saxon Empire, enjoying extremely high prestige among the Empire’s mage community.
A trace of ruthlessness flashed in Master Haber’s eyes for the first time. He no longer had the slightest hesitation and immediately began his spellcasting.
He first rapidly pulled out a small cloth-wrapped package from the spacious pocket of his mage robe, then tore it open.
A dog bone, a silver dog whistle, and a slender silk thread scattered in his palm.