Chapter 48: HEAT

Page (1/3)

"The Great Lucia Empire? That rotten, reactionary prison collapsed a year ago!"

A rare note of satisfaction colored Andrei's voice.

"Most of those vampires from the Romanov family were sent to the gallows by the furious people. They got exactly what they deserved."

Morin's heart jolted.

In this world, the equivalent of Imperial Russia had collapsed as long as a year ago—and from the sound of it, the Romanovs had met no better fate than they had in his former world.

"Then what is Lucia like now..."

"Lucia now?"

The chemistry professor sighed before taking over the explanation.

"Lucia now is nothing more than a hell engulfed in war."

"After the Romanov family fell, the entire country shattered. It split into all kinds of factions—damn it, I don't even know how many—and they're all fighting one another to the death."

"Some of us want to establish a communist state. There are also monarchists who want to restore the tsar's rule, various ethnic groups seeking independence and carving out territories of their own, and, of course, places controlled by lawless warlords..."

"Then which faction is the strongest at present?"

Andrei answered, "The strongest is the Supreme Autocratic Grand Duchy of All Lucia, founded by former Imperial Navy Admiral Kolchak and the monarchist nobles. They have the support of the Britons, excellent weapons, and abundant troops. They are our most powerful enemy."

Damn it. The White Army.

As Andrei continued describing the situation, more information kept appearing in Morin's ears, and he gradually pieced together a rough understanding of Lucia's circumstances.

In simple terms, it had also entered a battle royale across all of Lucia—more than ten years ahead of schedule.

At present, the two most powerful warlord factions had been established by former Admiral Kolchak and former army commander Denikin.

Moreover, these two factions, both backed by the Britons, had been trying to eliminate the other forces standing between them so that they could join forces.

At this point, Morin thought of someone he could not avoid mentioning.

"Andrei, have you ever heard whether Lucia has a famous proletarian revolutionary?"

"A revolutionary? We've got plenty of revolutionaries. One pops up here today, another appears over there tomorrow..."

"Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov? Does that name mean anything to you?"

"No..."

"Lenin, then?"

"No, that doesn't ring a bell either. Why are you asking?"

Andrei looked at Morin in confusion. He had no idea why this Saxon Empire subaltern had suddenly taken such an interest in Lucia.

"Because you just said that you wanted to establish a communist state. I wanted to find out what sort of person your leader is..."

"Oh, that's what you were asking about? Heh, you Saxons are rather invested in this, aren't you?"

Andrei suddenly understood. He paused as if considering something, then continued:

"The original group of leaders was mostly killed during the revolution that overthrew the Romanov dynasty, thanks to Kolchak's duplicity and the intervention of the monarchists. The current leader is a man called... er, Kerensky."

"But the man clearly has no idea how to govern a country. Our economy, production, and everything else are a complete disaster."

His conversation with Andrei raised the system's information-gathering progress once again, bringing it to twenty-three percent.

It also made Morin increasingly curious about what would happen when the progress reached one hundred percent.

Would he become omniscient and omnipotent?

Page (1/3)

At the same time, the system map underwent a major update. Once he zoomed out, Morin could see that quite a few regions in Lucia had emerged from the cover of the fog of war, revealing numerous factions, large and small.

The geopolitical landscape of this world, and the ecology of its revolutions, was far more complicated than Morin had anticipated.

The man who had been called the "Teacher" in the world he had come from seemed to have left the stage prematurely.

Although the Romanov dynasty had ended, the red state had still failed to emerge. The only faction that came close was led by none other than Kerensky.

With outside powers interfering, all of Lucia had been beaten into a bubbling stew. Judging from the current situation, no side seemed capable of ending the chaos anytime soon.

And so Andrei and the others had chosen to seek another path.

If, with the Saxons' help, they could tie down the Britons elsewhere—or even inflict a crushing defeat on them—the resources and attention the Britons could devote to Lucia would be reduced.

That also meant the Kingdom of Aragon was merely one stop on their long journey.

"This world is way too dark. Is this some kind of DC universe?"

As he thought this, Morin tried turning the map toward the familiar East. Apart from the thick, impenetrable fog of war, however, a line of small text had appeared.

[Come back and explore this area later.]

"Whoa..."

Morin was still digesting this information when a worker suddenly shouted excitedly:

"It's done! The hollow cone has been cast!"

Everyone's eyes were instantly drawn toward him.

Morin and Andrei immediately stopped talking and hurried over.

A hollow copper cone had finished cooling and now lay before them.

Its surface was not particularly smooth, but the angle of the cone was perfect, and all its measurements matched the calculations Morin and the chemistry professor had made.

Meanwhile, the artillerymen had separated the yellow explosive from more than a dozen shells and stacked it neatly in wooden crates.

Another worker, who had once moonlighted as a clockmaker, brought over a delicate metal mechanism made up of springs, a striker, and other components. With a gesture, he indicated that his work was complete as well.

Every component was ready.

"Begin final assembly!" Morin issued the last order.

The steps that followed would test both their skill and their courage.

Under Morin's direction, the veteran artillerymen first installed the intricately constructed, manually triggered fuse deep inside the casing of the 105-millimeter shell.

Then they placed a layer of fabric inside the hollow casing to insulate the metal before repacking it with explosives.

This time, however, they did not fill it completely. Instead, they left a precisely calculated cavity in front of the warhead.

Finally came the most crucial step.

They carefully fitted the completely cooled copper cone into the cavity at the front of the casing, with its point facing inward and aimed directly at the explosives packed at the bottom.

Once the final component had been secured, a strange, awkward-looking "shell" was born.

It had the thick body of a 105-millimeter artillery round, but its warhead was an inward-curving funnel.

At the rear was a mechanical impact fuse, with an extended structure fastened to several cavalry lances whose spearheads had been cut off and whose shafts had been bound together.

Morin glanced at the time. From beginning to end, the process had taken an hour and a half.

That was roughly consistent with the efficiency he remembered from the German military engineers of another world, who repaired artillery in the field by similar methods.

Page (2/3)

Ludwig stepped forward and examined the newly created "weapon" curiously. No matter how he looked at it, the thing seemed rather unreliable.

"Morin, this is the... 'can opener' you mentioned?"

"That's right." Morin nodded. "More precisely, it's a shaped-charge anti-armor round."

"A shaped-charge anti-armor round... So we're supposed to load this into the barrel, aim it like any other ammunition, and fire?"

As he voiced his doubts, Ludwig circled the object with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Morin said, "No. Your armored knights have to carry it into close range and detonate it there. Otherwise, why do you think I added a shaft to the back?"

"Wait..." Ludwig froze. "Didn't you just call it a round? Why does someone still have to go up and detonate it by hand?"

"Because I haven't found any other reliable way to deliver it yet."

Morin shrugged, then suddenly looked at Ludwig in shock, as if struck by a brilliant realization.

"My heavens, Your Excellency of the Teutonic Order, surely you aren't planning to have infantry carry this thing in with their own flesh and blood?"

"What? No, I... I wasn't..."

"My lord, the explosive charge alone would make the recoil from the blast enough to leave them half-dead. That's a suicide attack. I may be many things, but I'm not that heartless..."

"...Fine, fine. Our armored knights will use it. Now tell me how, and conduct a test while you're at it."

Ludwig finally raised his hands in surrender, then nimbly ran to the other side and climbed into his mount, intending to carry out the test himself.

Before climbing into the cockpit, he waved to several knightly attendants and had them bring over the thickest chest armor plate they could find, removed from the wreckage of a destroyed armored knight of the Order of the Garter.

The armor plate was propped at an angle against a broken wall. Elegant heraldic designs and marks left by battle still clung to its surface.

Morin leaned closer for a look. Judging from the cross-section, it was nowhere near sixty or seventy millimeters thick—at most, perhaps thirty-five to forty.

In other words, through special craftsmanship and anti-demonic enchantments, the armor plate had gained nearly a fifty-percent increase in defensive strength.

"That damn magic... it really does have something to it."

While Morin marveled at the sight, Ludwig's Siegfried Type One armored knight strode forward.

It then carefully picked up the weapon Morin had named the "close-combat shaped-charge anti-armor round."

"So I just disengage the safety and fire it at the target?"

Ludwig's voice seemed to come from somewhere inside the armored knight, with a slight echo to it.

Morin replied, "Exactly. To ensure the best chance of penetration, I recommend keeping the distance between the warhead and the target at around twenty centimeters."

"All right, I understand. Everyone, fall back!"

Ludwig shouted. Once everyone had retreated to a safe distance, he raised the shaped-charge round like a spear and aimed its warhead at the target.

Can this thing really work?

Doubt filled Ludwig's heart.

The object looked as though it had been made by some third-rate craftsman in a country workshop after a night of heavy drinking—wild, crude, and utterly unpredictable.

But he chose to trust Morin. Without hesitation, he activated the anti-armor round.

Page (3/3)