Chapter 55: Alleyway Mage

"All Highland Mages, follow me!"

His icy voice echoed throughout the camp.

The other two Highland Mages and two apprentice mages did not dare to delay in the slightest, immediately falling in step behind him.

Looking at the two young apprentice mages, Eldridge was reminded once again of the apprentice who had been blown to pieces by an enemy trap inside the small building.

These three apprentices were all promising talents he had personally selected, and he had always tutored them himself.

He believed that given their innate talent, with time they would surely achieve the same level of success as he had, further strengthening his faction within the Mage Corps...

Coming to the Kingdom of Aragon this time to assist in the campaign was an intentional move by Eldridge to temper his apprentices and add overseas combat experience for the Empire to their resumes.

This would be immensely helpful for the promotion of Highland Mage apprentices.

Yet previously, before they had even laid eyes on the enemy, one apprentice had been blown to death on the spot.

For Eldridge, who had invested so much thought and effort into them, this was an absolute and severe loss.

At this thought, he turned his head slightly toward his remaining two apprentices and warned them:

"Keep your vigilance high, be careful... Don't be as careless as that fellow Bled. In an emergency, you are authorized to withdraw from combat directly, understand?"

"Yes, Mentor." ×2

As the five Highland Mages prepared to set out, the newly reinforced battalion of the Northumberland Flintlock Regiment also pushed forward entirely under the orders of Colonel Henry.

The Britannia Expeditionary Force intended to use an absolute advantage in troop numbers to completely crush the resistance within the city of Seville.

...

On the other side, just as Morin was preparing to use "micromanagement" to wipe out a platoon of Britannians based on the distribution of force icons on the system map, the system map uncharacteristically popped up a line of warning.

[Warning! High-threat units approaching! Quantity: 5!]

He immediately zoomed out the map and saw that among the red enemy force icons, five special icons representing spellcasting units had suddenly appeared and were closing in.

One of the icons was even marked with a purple "High Threat" tag.

"Damn it, it's the Highland Mages! Have they reached the front line..."

The situation Morin feared most had finally happened.

The Britannians were clearly driven to desperation by the string of losses and had directly dispatched their spellcasters to the front.

Before he even had time to react, he watched those five icons reach the urban area of Seville at an unimaginable speed.

Among them, the high-threat marker representing the senior mentor Eldridge rushed straight into the interior of Seville at an absurd, almost linear speed.

Morin instantly guessed that he must have used the flight spell he had witnessed earlier outside the city.

"What is he trying to do?"

Morin stared intently at the map, trying to anticipate the enemy's next move.

The next second, he saw Eldridge's icon stop near the tallest church in the central district of the city.

Then, the force icon representing a squad near the church directly turned gray.

Immediately afterward, the sound of a violent explosion and the tremors of the ground rolled in from afar.

"Boom—!"

A soldier assigned to observation quickly ran to Morin's side, his face full of panic.

"Platoon Leader! It's bad! The church bell tower... the bell tower has been bombed! A giant fireball fell from the sky and leveled it directly!"

Just as expected!

That bell tower was the most crucial vantage point and observation post in the city, capable of overlooking the majority of the urban area and providing the defenders with invaluable battlefield intelligence.

But now it had been plucked out.

This high-ranking mage intended to knock out the defenders' eyes and ears first!

"His next step is likely an assassination attempt!"

Morin instantly realized the enemy's intention.

Once the vantage point observation was lost, the defenders' command headquarters would experience a drastic drop in situational awareness regarding the city interior.

And a high-ranking mage capable of flight could easily bypass layers of defense and deal a devastating blow to the brigade headquarters.

"Quick, go to the brigade headquarters! Find a way to notify them that the enemy has a high-ranking mage attempting a decapitation strike! Tell them to relocate immediately!"

Morin shouted loudly to the nearby runner.

"Yes!"

The runner did not dare to delay, spinning around and dashing out.

Meanwhile, on the map, the other two Highland Mages and the two apprentice mages had dispersed, descending upon different advancing routes.

They were clearly preparing to use their magic to support the advance of the ground troops.

Although this did not conform to the usual conduct of the Highland Mage Corps, it was happening nonetheless...

The battle within the city of Seville instantly entered a state of unprecedented ferocity.

On a street defended by the International Brigades, a Highland Mage descended from the sky, landing right in the middle of the soldiers of the Northumberland Flintlock Regiment.

He didn't even bother to seek cover, standing with utter arrogance right in the center of the street.

"Open fire! Kill that man in the robe!"

The International Brigade fighters hiding in the buildings on both sides now knew that the Britannian Highland Mages were not invincible, so they boldly concentrated their fire on him at once.

However, all the bullets were blocked by a translucent blue barrier half a meter away from his body, kicking up ripples of energy.

"Damn it! That shield again!"

Observing this through binoculars from afar, Andrei slammed his fist heavily against the window frame.

The mage paid no heed to the incoming bullets. He simply lifted his hand slightly toward the building with the densest firepower and chanted a few syllables.

The next second, a fireball the size of a human head formed in front of his palm and roared forward.

"Boom!"

The windows of the three-story building were instantly blown out, and the violent explosion and flames engulfed the entire room.

A squad of International Brigade soldiers inside was swallowed by the expanding inferno before they even had time to scream.

...

On another street defended by Saxon soldiers, the exact same scene was playing out.

The two apprentice mages had become the core of the entire advancing force.

The defenders continuously fired from within the buildings, even throwing grenades and Molotov cocktails in a desperate attempt to concentrate fire on the two spellcasters.

Although the surrounding friendly infantry fell one after another, these two apprentice mages remained completely unharmed.

Whether it was rifle bullets, shrapnel from exploding grenades, or the flames of Molotov cocktails, all of them were blocked by that seemingly fragile blue shield.

Clearly, in close-quarters urban combat, achieving a density of firepower where hundreds of rifles fired simultaneously was difficult, making this magical armor much harder to shatter than before.

The Highland Mage apprentice cast [Life Perception] toward a building where windows were continually flashing with gunfire, then reported the defenders' positions to the nearby Britannian officers in a flat tone.

"Left building, second floor, six... third floor, five."

This most basic spell, developed in ancient times for exploration, became a lethal cheat code in urban warfare.

"Riflemen, suppressive fire! Heavy armor squad, prepare to assault!"

Armed with precise intelligence, the Britannian officer immediately issued the order.

The soldiers of the Northumberland Flintlock Regiment began frantically pouring fire into the windows of that building.

The shooting proficiency of these elite soldiers far surpassed that of the previous regular army troops.

Although they all used bolt-action rifles, their rate of fire was extremely fast, and the dense wall of bullets pinned the defenders hiding behind the windows tightly, leaving them no chance to fight back for the moment.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

"I want to go back..."

A massive volume of bullets penetrated the windows, kicking up plaster dust all over the interior, a crackling din filling the entire room.

The pinned-down Saxon soldiers had never experienced such a terrifying barrage, and several of them panicked, dropping to the floor and attempting to crawl toward the door.

Seizing this opportunity, several heavy infantrymen clad in thick full plate armor strode forward, braving the sporadic stray bullets.

The two-handed greatswords in their hands easily smashed open the barricaded doors and windows, and supported by the infantry behind them, they surged into the building.

Soon, fierce gunfire and screams echoed from inside the structure.

Meanwhile, another group of heavy infantrymen, pushing forward against the gunfire originating from other directions, used their tools to forcibly dismantle the barbed wire and roadblocks on the street.

Seeing this, a 77mm field gun hidden in the ruins of a street corner was pushed out by the artillery crew stationed there.

Sheltered by the gun shield that continuously blocked incoming bullets, the gun crew nervously loaded a high-explosive shell and fired with direct aim, the explosion instantly blanketing the area.

Several heavy infantrymen currently working were blown to the ground on the spot, breathing their no more.

Yet their deaths did not induce fear in the others.

More cold-eyed heavy infantrymen pushed up from behind, continuing their work.

They were like emotionless machines of war, using their flesh and blood to clear the path forward for the subsequent troops.

For the Britannian soldiers who had previously shattered other imperial armies with the "Thin Red Line," they significantly outmatched the former kingdom troops in both technical and tactical proficiency, as well as combat will.

This instantly caused the pressure on the defenders' side to spike dramatically.

Through the map, Morin saw that around the 3rd Platoon, several friendly positions were beginning to experience forced retreats.

The defense line was being torn apart piece by piece.

"Platoon Leader! The International Brigades on the left flank are about to break! They're requesting reinforcements!"

"2nd Platoon on the right also sent word; a Highland Mage has appeared on their front, and casualties are heavy!"

The runner kept bringing bad news, and Morin's expression grew increasingly grim.

He glanced at the map: the red arrows representing the enemy forces were forming a pincer movement from both sides toward the defensive sector of the 3rd Platoon.

If they didn't find a way out soon, the 3rd Platoon's position would quickly turn into a salient and get surrounded.

"We can't wait any longer!"

Morin made a decisive judgment.

He grabbed his rifle and shouted to the remaining two squads of reserve soldiers beside him: "Follow me! We're going to put out the fire!"

With that, he led the fewer than twenty soldiers out of their temporary hideout, weaving through the buildings and rushing toward the left flank position facing the heaviest pressure.