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墨書 Inktalez
At this point, one cannot help but mention the matter of gunpowder.
In fact, John had learned about it in middle school and had attempted to create gunpowder using a recipe he remembered: saltpeter, charcoal, sulfur, and a bit of sugar, all with the hope of crafting a powerful explosive. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. After several trials, the results were disappointing. When he ignited his so-called gunpowder, instead of producing the expected violent explosion, the mixture instantly transformed into an incredibly solid mass, almost like an efficient flame retardant, completely losing its intended purpose.
Perhaps it was due to the unique magic present in this world that its elemental composition differed greatly from the elements in our familiar periodic table. Here, there might not even be common elements like hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon, sodium, magnesium, aluminum, silicon, phosphorus, sulfur, chlorine, argon, potassium, calcium, and so on. Instead, they could be replaced by fantastical elemental forces such as wind, fire, thunder, water, earth, light, and darkness.
However, John did not dwell on these chaotic matters since he could not produce what he desired. Instead of trying to create artificial winds, he decided to focus on his training to become a human embodiment of the wind. But first, he needed to conquer the territory below; otherwise, if he had many children in the future, there wouldn’t be enough inheritance for them.
Watching the craftsmen install two catapults step by step, John did not wait for the team that was out gathering stones. He directed his team towards the distant castle; he intended to spend the night in the castle of Manhe Territory.
Meanwhile, the Venetian Baron in Manhe Territory was enjoying roasted meat in his castle while singing and flirting with maids when suddenly a soldier reported that a large number of elite soldiers were approaching the castle to attack.
This news unsettled the Venetian Baron. Were they bandits? It was worse than bandits; real bandits wouldn’t attack a baron’s castle so openly. Contemplating this for a moment before putting down his utensils and grabbing his sword and shield to step outside his quarters—damn it all—he wanted to see which fool dared to mess with him.
As soon as he climbed onto the wall, the Venetian Baron saw his soldiers panicking like goblins scared out of their wits. He exploded with anger right then and there.
“Everyone calm down! Stand firm!”
With a whip crack and bolstered by his terrifying reputation, the soldiers finally managed to organize themselves and crouched along the wall ready to defend against the enemy.
From a distance of three or four hundred yards away, John observed this scene through his spyglass and was astonished. This was what Redman referred to as an elite unit? Worn-out studded armor and soldiers who scattered at the sight of several times their number? What a joke! If these were considered elite enemies, what did that make his own troops?
He handed the spyglass to Redman and pointed at the wall.
“Brother, is this what you call elite? If this is elite status then what do I have?”
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