Scott opened his mouth and tried to take a deep breath to force himself to calm down, but as soon as he took such a breath, the strong smell of blood came out.
You could vaguely see several corpses lying on the ground at the bottom of the tower, with semi-solidified blood overflowing all over the ground.
Indeed, the elite hunters who were originally scheduled to attack this tower were blocked, but after completing their missions, the hunters who attacked other towers realized that their companions were missing, so they came here to investigate, and planned to solve this problem easily.
Accidentally left behind target.
Because the time dragged on for too long, the natives' physical strength was exhausted, and the windproof raincoats were on the verge of failure, which further hindered the operation. Therefore, Scott and his comrades took advantage of the opponent's carelessness and successfully killed these elite hunters.
The price is that among the four-person team, only Scott is still alive.
"The artillery launch must be successfully initiated...the artillery launch must be successfully initiated..."
Smelling the blood of his comrades and natives, and hearing the furious roar of the crocodile dragon in the distance, Scott's hands were so trembling that he couldn't even hold on to the linen cloth that he usually used to wipe the barrel and inner wall of the artillery, and he could only repeat what was in his mind.
The most obsessive short sentence.
But he was not a gunner in the first place. Although he saw a lot of them, he could only control the artillery to aim and fire.
How to repair the broken artillery? How did he know!
Praying sincerely to bring the displeased machine soul back to peace? This is a good idea, but the Mechanical Spirit Sect is probably a small minority in the empire...
His thoughts began to fly into the distance in confusion, and there was not much time left for Scott.
As the ground suddenly vibrated, the entire tower began to shake slightly, and even scattered lime chips fell from the ground.
The roar of the crocodile dragon and the scream of the etheric weapons tearing the air are getting closer and closer, and the battle between Viscount Grant and the great shaman can span half the city in a few minutes.
Perhaps it was a coincidence, or perhaps it was deliberate, the battlefield between the two sides was visibly heading towards the rough and almost boiling offshore sea.
This tower is right around their path!
"...No, I have to leave."
After being hit on the head by a falling brick, Scott stretched out his hand to touch his head blankly, but could only touch a handful of blood mixed with dust. At this moment, Scott suddenly realized his current situation.
He really didn't know anything about alchemical artillery. It was just because he didn't want the sacrifices of his comrades to be in vain that he forced himself to throw around these inscribed instruments that he couldn't understand at all.
But the current situation will not change even if he dies, because inscriptions are just like mathematics, if they don't, they won't.
If you don't want to be buried with your comrades and natives, you have to leave.
Although he thought so, when Scott stumbled to the bottom of the tower and wanted to open the latch and leave, he was shocked to realize that due to the previous vibration of the earth, the entire structure of the tower had been slightly deformed.
The log door was stuck in the door frame. No matter how he pushed or hit it, he could not shake it at all.
"It looks like I'm really going to die. It's a pity that I didn't say goodbye to my mother in the morning..."
When he was exhausted and finally realized that he had been declared dead, Scott sat down in a pool of blood, crying and laughing. He was too lazy to care whether the corpse next to him was a comrade or a native. Anyway, when the tower collapsed, everyone would be in a mess.
Who can separate who?
It was only at this moment that I realized that this soldier in the light armor of the city guard was just a young guy who didn't even have hair on his mouth. He was at most fourteen or fifteen years old.
However, not long after Scott gave up the struggle completely.
The howling wind outside the tower seemed to pause for a moment.
Then, the resigned young city guard suddenly raised his head and looked at the tower gate in shock.
Because, just now, he seemed to hear the sound of someone pushing the door!
"...Is it really locked..."
Listening carefully, Scott vaguely heard a slightly immature, but extremely calm voice muttering to himself amidst the noisy wind outside: "It seems I can only kick it away."
...kick away?
Because of exhaustion, blood loss, and the sluggishness of despair, Scott did not understand what the so-called "kicking away" meant.
But, in the next moment, he understood.
Boom! With a powerful kick hitting the building door, the entire door panel collapsed backwards with a 'bang'.
There was a strange and warm smell of wind and rain outside the building, and the entire door panel passed past the stunned Scott's eyes, and then hit the inner wall of the tower.
The sound of rain suddenly became clear.
Turning his head blankly, staring at the door panel, the young city guard turned his head blankly and looked at the door.
It was pouring rain, lightning and thunder, and a figure wearing an indigenous raincoat stood at the door.
Even when the opponent had just retracted his legs, he couldn't tell that his slender and well-proportioned body could actually explode with such great power.
Before Scott could react, he had already seen the face of the boy in the raincoat clearly, and then he was startled again.
"...Ian?"
Although the news was not deliberately spread, the news of a young psyker emerging from Harrison Harbor was somewhat of a big news in the middle of the year.
Scott was not a white citizen and was not familiar with the appearance of the psyker boy, but he was not able to recognize him when he saw him face to face.
"You recognize me? That's easy."
Looking over his shoulder, Ian saw an embarrassed city guard lying in a pool of blood with his face covered in dust. He just glanced at the corpse next to him and roughly understood what had just happened: "It's amazing. I actually defended against the attack of the natives, but
Is there something wrong with the alchemy cannon?"
"Can you take me to see the situation?"
Theoretically speaking, Scott should shout a warning at this time and tell the opponent that the tower is structurally unstable and may collapse at any time. Why bother with artillery? Hurry and run!
"The artillery is right up there. The natives didn't destroy it, but they just can't fire it..."
But for some reason, as Ian gave the order as a matter of course, he nodded mysteriously, struggled to stand up from the pool of blood, then led the other person to the gun tower, and explained the current situation to him as concisely as possible: "Cannon barrel
There are no problems with the structure and crystal sand dust. The gunpowder is very dry. I suspect there is something wrong with the igniter..."
"Damn it, how could I say these things?"
Scott didn't understand his actions at all. After he brought Ian to the alchemy cannon, he originally wanted to escape immediately... The roar of the giant beast outside became more and more real, and the shaking of the tower became more violent.
He was already leading the way to the limit, so why would he stay and waste time explaining these superficial and ridiculous remarks?
But suddenly, the faces of his dead comrades appeared in his mind.
Those comrades who protected him behind him just because he was young, even if he knew nothing and couldn't do anything well, still kept him alive...their faces.
In no mood.
No, I'm sorry for their blood.
"Thank you, that's very helpful."
Taking off his raincoat, Ian immediately focused his attention on the huge alchemy creation in front of him. The boy's eyes were hot and pure: "I have never had a chance to get started. This time I can analyze the structure..."