Chapter 310 — The Gaosong Improvement Plan

The shell detonated within the target zone, and a thunderous roar reached every ear. Gao Yang said that this roar had erupted not only upon the target but upon the traditions of this world: from this day forward, the walls of nobles would no longer be impregnable, the towers of mages would no longer be beyond challenge. For centuries, this power to tear through rock and steel had been held firmly in the hands of the extraordinary; but now, it took nothing more than a militia recruit trained for three months to pull a lever.

Some people lapsed into a daze.

Jenny stared blankly at the blossoming ball of fire, measuring in her mind just how much magical force it was equivalent to. Although she had personally taken part in optimizing the acceleration rails, the instant the shell detonated still surpassed her imagination.

She thought of her terrifying mentor, and wondered how many shots he could withstand before that rail cannon—one? Or two?

It made no difference how many he could withstand, because in the new order the lord was forging, anyone who set himself against Cecil would face ten thousand guns firing at once.

Those who had tried to use magic shields and protective amulets to withstand volleys from heat-ray guns had already proven that with their own lives.

Hetty, too, sank into a daze. Her first thought was how vastly different this war machine was from the bomb-hurling catapults used in the Second Defensive Battle, and after a moment's thought she realized these were weapons of two entirely different concepts.

A catapult was, in many cases, only a deterrent: a massive stone or a burning fireball would soar into the air and come crashing down upon heads or city walls with irresistible force, and the pressure it exerted was fatal to the private soldiers of traditional nobles who had little sense of honor or duty. But beyond damaging morale, the actual destruction a catapult could inflict in a battle was quite limited; it was merely a supplement to ranged attack when battlemages were in short supply—and in most cases battlemages were always in short supply. Their role was usually only to kill key enemy units, create battlefield interference, or counter the enemy's mages.

But this magical device, which the Ancestor had named the "Magic-Crystal Rail Cannon," was a weapon truly aimed at destruction.

Accuracy, range, destructive power, stability, ease of operation... every one of these metrics served a single purpose: to achieve the effect of destroying the target efficiently, accurately, and swiftly... just as the Ancestor had said, once the shells roared, the castles of traditional nobles and the shield walls formed by knight orders would all be swept away into nothing.

Byron watched the smoke cloud gradually disperse in the north wind, then raised a hand to scratch his somewhat unkempt gray-white hair. "This thing packs more punch than the ray gun... and a hell of a lot more than a catapult."

"If the battlefields of the future are all filled with this sort of thing..." Philip, however, was frowning at the distance. "Where do knights and heavy infantry go from here?"

Byron glanced at his partner and shrugged. "Didn't you just see it? The knight stands off to the side shouting 'fire,' and the infantry handles the loading and pulls the lever."

The earnest-natured Philip inevitably sank into a state of agonizing: "...I can't help feeling this kind of combat is missing something in the way of honor..."

Byron consoled him from the side: "Think about it—once this thing is widespread, there'll basically be only two kinds of people on the battlefield: those who get blown to bits by cannon fire before they even lay eyes on the enemy, and those responsible for firing the cannons. Honor on the battlefield is either valiant fighting or final victory. Now, the valiant fighters die before the battle even starts, so the ones who win in the end must be the most honorable—therefore the ones firing the cannons are the most honorable..."

Philip listened, dumbfounded. "Can it really be explained that way?"

"How else would you explain it? We can't have the losers be the glorious ones every time, can we? Then who'd bother winning battles—just surrender the moment war breaks out. So it's still the cannoneers who have the most glory. At least more glory than those fellows lying on the ground. I mean, if you're the most glorious person on the whole field, then who's honorable if not you? Right...?"

Philip gave it serious thought, then turned and walked away. "...I keep feeling you're spouting nonsense again."

Byron watched Philip's retreating back and curled his lip in mild boredom. "Fine—just don't come begging when the first batch of rail cannons gets issued..."

Then he immediately came before Gao Yang. "My lord, will this new weapon be fully deployed soon?"

One look at the old-soldier knight's eyes told Gao Yang that the man had developed a keen interest in this weapon. Byron was a true pragmatist of the battlefield; he would never fuss over whether a weapon conformed to knightly tradition. Anything that could effectively dispose of the enemy was good equipment—and the Magic-Crystal Rail Cannon was clearly just such good equipment.

"It still needs some final testing, and then adjustments for industrial mass production. It'll be spring of next year at the earliest before it rolls onto the production line."

Seeing a flicker of disappointment on Byron's face, Gao Yang smiled. "Even if we had a batch of finished rail cannons right now, the Combat Corps still wouldn't be ready to field them. To use this new weapon with maximum efficiency, we must first form a new type of specialized unit."

"A new specialized unit?" Byron snapped out of the excitement of "I'm finally getting my own Italian cannon" (you get the gist) and promptly grasped Gao Yang's meaning.

From the weapon's range, power, and mode of attack, it wasn't hard to judge what kind of impact this thing could have on the shape of war. It was far more than simply "a catapult with greater power." For the soldiers who would operate the Magic-Crystal Rail Cannon—whether in their most basic training, their battlefield role, or even the way higher commanders directed them—everything would have to be redefined from scratch in order to let these "big boomers" deliver their greatest effect.

"The Cecil Combat Corps will add a 'cannoneer' branch specifically to operate this heavy firepower. The organization of the cannoneer units, their training, and their logistics in actual combat—I'll hand all of that to you and Philip afterward," Gao Yang said unhurriedly. "Operating a rail cannon requires a certain technical grasp. It's not like the heat-ray gun; the Magic-Crystal Rail Cannon's range already exceeds what can be sighted and corrected by intuition alone. That places higher demands on the soldiers manning this new cannon. When aiming, they must correct the firing angle through various auxiliary sights, estimate the shell's point of impact using pre-compiled firing tables, and be able to respond swiftly to firing orders from commanders. That means a fairly high level of literacy is required—even simple reading and writing won't be enough. So you'll need to pay close attention when selecting the first batch of cannoneers."

Watching the knight Byron take his leave, Gao Yang let out a soft breath.

Then, at his command, the soldiers and technicians fired off every remaining test round and live shell in reserve, collecting a great deal of highly valuable data in the process.

After the testing ended, he called Camille and Nicholas Egg over to his side.

"Are you satisfied with this weapon?" The arcane glow on Camille's surface flickered and danced; he was clearly in a good mood.

Gao Yang nodded. "Very good. It meets my requirements in every respect. But there's still a great deal of room for improvement—do you know what it is?"