The black sun hangs high

Chapter 152 Ghost
"Think of a new pen name."

Mayer's words made Hugh feel as if he had returned to that day in Seren.

He remembered that he was standing by the window of the Goblin Merchant Guild's House No. 37, gazing at the thick smoke rising from the riots in the distance.

Hugh suddenly remembered someone.

A man who should have died in the city of Seren.

To this day, Hugh has not heard or seen any news about Putrin. He only saw a description of the events in Seren, the veracity of which is unknown, in a corner of the newspaper. The description claimed that when the bell tower collapsed and the scene descended into chaos, several youths broke through the guards' blockade and fired shots at the prince's vehicle.

Most of the news was lost in the changing situation.

All those trapped in the city of Seren are the same.

They have all been forgotten. Cold-hearted people would never mention such a place, while those with compassion can only avoid talking about Seren, since they are powerless to do anything about it now.

And so, everything there was buried in time.

A city thus became a living ruin.

With that thought in mind, Hughes put down his pen.

"The Ghost of Seren".

Professor Meyer softly read out the pen name Hugh had written, a hint of emotion and melancholy flashing across his face. He then stood up and walked to another carriage. As someone who wrote frequently, he knew that it was best not to disturb Hugh at this time.

Ink flowed slowly from the crystallized tip of the pen, leaving streaks on the paper.

These traces form a story.

A story that takes place in an unnamed border town.

As before, love became the opening theme of this story.

But this time, it has changed its past appearance.

Between Hughes’s words, there are mottled marks like moss, which make the descriptions that should have been quite erotic seem more realistic.

Heavy breathing, approaching dark clouds, unconscious murmurs, and the sound of rolling wheels on the street intertwined, making everything seem incredibly heavy, as if festive decorations that once hung on the eaves had fallen into a muddy ditch.

When the joyful couples finished their entanglement, the downpour began...

Hughes gradually got into the zone.

No one bothered him.

The soldiers dared not casually strike up a conversation with this military mage who was already famous in the Jaeger Corps. They knew that this young man was a member of the Ernst family, and even disregarding that, he was still an elite member of the army.

Professor Meyer called the female students of the medical school together for an impromptu lecture on injuries from magical explosions. Professor Meyer always managed to make even the most tedious lessons vivid and engaging, and his humor and the interesting cases he used would occasionally elicit bursts of laughter from the students.

Vera came over once, intending to share her recent discoveries, but seeing Hughes writing at his desk, she immediately chose to return the way she came.

Sally also came once, but she only quietly brought Hugh a water jug ​​filled with a refreshing drink.

And so, as night gradually approached, and all the crystal lamps on the steam train lit up under the influence of the magic circuit, Hugh suddenly looked up and put down his pen.

He hadn't written anything with such concentration in a long time, which stirred up memories of Hugh Ernst and reminded him of his past self.

In a sense, they are indeed similar—they both enjoy immersing themselves in the world of words, writing stories that may or may not be related to themselves, and at such times, they find boundless peace.

The article is, of course, not finished; to be precise, it is only the beginning of a long story.

What Hughes saw and heard during this time shaped the beginning of this story, and in this limited text, the "magical mouse" who acts as the narrator witnesses the beginning, development, and end of a human romance.

It was a story between a businesswoman and a young driver. At first, they were only attracted to each other's bodies, but gradually, this attraction penetrated to their souls and inner selves. However, things didn't go as planned. Just when their relationship might develop further, a recruitment notice quietly arrived in front of the young driver.

This is where the story truly begins.

Hugh hadn't figured out what would happen next. He had simply followed his impulse and depicted the images that flashed through his mind. As for how the story would unfold and what experiences the young man about to go to the front lines would have...

Hughes doesn't have any ideas yet.

Just like Professor Meyer's attitude toward the war, Hugh now wants to "see" it out before making any further judgments.

Hugh felt as if he had truly become a ghost that had escaped from Ernst's old mansion in Seren.

Or perhaps, he was originally a ghost wandering in Vaan?
The steam train continued its journey along the tracks, and amidst the constant vibrations and noises, Hugh and the other soldiers of the Fifth Juggernaut Regiment were steadily approaching the southern front of the war.

……

As various countries successively declared war, contact and friction between armies began to become more frequent.

Apart from the Isa River front dominated by the Saint Steeles, the central front near the "Silver Corridor" of the Black Nest Mountains and the southern steps that hug the rugged hills and the city of Seren were unusually quiet.

Unlike the Lovi Plateau, where three kingdoms coexist, the situation on the Goddess Plain has always been much more stable.

The Delan royal family is the nominal ruler of the entire Goddess Plains. Its existence ensures that the various duchies on the plains maintain restraint in their relations with each other. Even in the event of intense friction and conflict, the Kingdom of Delan can directly intervene to mediate and resolve the situation. Geographically, the duchies, large and small, act as protectors of the central Kingdom of Delan.

Two hundred years ago, during the war between the plains and the plateau, the Kingdom of Wotel believed that the Delan royal family had almost no control or rule over the duchies. Therefore, it launched a rather bold attack. Although many duchies collapsed under the offensive of the plateau army in the early stages of the war, as their strength was regrouped, they successfully pushed the Wotel people out of the Goddess Plains.

Many scholars even believe that it was the war that the Kingdom of Walter mistakenly launched that made the relationship between the states of the Plains closer and allowed the Delan royal family to gain a firm foothold on the Plains.

Faced with their "arch-enemy" arriving from the Lovi Plateau, the Kingdom of Delan displayed the highest level of vigilance. Although the previous "great earthquake" had severely damaged the established defenses, the Delan army had largely filled in the gaps after several days of emergency repairs.

However, even after the formal declaration of war, the Votels still did not launch an attack.

They seemed to be basking in the lingering warmth of the winter festival...

However, as night fell that day, continuous and intense shelling shattered the false tranquility.

Under the skilled operation of the rotating members of the Third Artillery Regiment, the new crystal cannons developed by Muchi Workshop, or now the Royal Workshop of Water, roared continuously. Their huge metal bases were firmly fixed to the ground, and each firing produced a violent vibration.

After a round of firing, the artillerymen would immediately open the metal valves on the side of the crystal cannons to release the magical mist generated by the violent reaction of the magic crystals, and at the same time, they would load new shells. After the shells were loaded, the accompanying mages responsible for the artillery positions would quickly complete the calibration of the magical ritual. After checking that everything was correct, another round of shelling would begin.

The power of the new type of cannonballs is naturally incomparable to that of pure crystal cannonballs. They contain far less magical crystals and therefore cannot cause the large-scale magical explosions seen in the Isa River Basin.

However, they also possess amazing advantages that traditional crystallized projectiles cannot match.

Cheaper and more stable.

The main point is the large quantity.

During the first round of shelling, the officers of the Delan army discovered that the Voltel's shelling was not even able to completely destroy a forward magic watchtower, which made them laugh and think that the Voltel had not fought for too long and even had serious problems with the maintenance of their shells.

But soon, these officers paid the price for their misjudgment.

Within minutes, the second round of artillery fire from the Votel began, while the Delan army's artillery positions remained in a state of readiness.

The loading of cannonballs, the adjustment and inspection of the magical rituals on the crystal cannon, and the adjustment of the firing angle...

This time, what fell from the sky was no longer a few scattered shells, but an astonishing rain curtain woven from shells—they left faint magical trails in the evening sky, and when they all fell to the ground, the resulting impact and explosions formed a terrifying straight line across the vast plain.

Without waiting for the commander's orders, the spellcasters active on the front lines had already spontaneously activated the protective ritual field to resist the impact and explosion.

As a result, a large number of prepared magic pages began to burn and disintegrate under the influence of magic, and the magical rituals imprinted on them began to take effect widely on the battlefield, protecting the important officers, spellcasters and artillerymen.

The Goddess Plains Kingdoms have close ties with the Legal Council, so all their accompanying mages are now theoretically under the command of Merlinle. The strength of these professional spellcasters is beyond doubt, and even the magical equipment and resources they can use are of the highest quality.

Their current actions are in line with the Legal Committee's assessment of the battlefield and the expectations of the commanders in the Delan Army—everyone knows that this level of protective ceremonial field is sufficient to allow everyone to withstand the enemy's fiercest artillery fire.

In the recent shelling, some ordinary soldiers on the front lines suffered casualties, and some pre-built fortifications were also damaged, but for the entire defensive line, such losses were insignificant.

However, the shelling stopped abruptly as the last shell in the sky struck the protective ceremonial ground.

A silence fell over the Delan army's position, broken only by the wails of the wounded and the hum of magic emanating from the operating magic ritual field.

What was once a reassuring hum now seems like a great irony.

The artillerymen at Waterloo fell silent like mischievous children after throwing a few stones at their "neighbor's" window, as if they knew exactly what tactics their opponent would employ in response to the shelling.

Meanwhile, the spellcasters responsible for guiding the artillery positions all looked troubled.

In past wars, although all human nations possessed crystal cannons and crystal guns, no one was ever willing to strike first when they were locked in a stalemate.

Firstly, this is related to the aristocratic etiquette among the various states.

Secondly, the crystal cannons often leave very clear magical traces in the environment after they are fired, and the accompanying mages can easily locate the enemy's artillery positions by tracing these magical traces.

But this time, they couldn't do it.

The moment the shelling ceased, the enemy mages began rapidly clearing away and covering the magical mist left behind by the artillery positions. The trails left by the shells were far fainter than those left by traditional crystal shells, and before the mages of the Magic Committee could even detect them, they had already naturally dissipated into the air...

At this moment, on the position of the Third Artillery Regiment, which had just completed two rounds of shelling, a dozen or so accompanying mages had taken over the positions of the artillerymen. Each of them had a swaying incense burner hanging in their hands. The specially made incense was constantly taking effect with the help of magical rituals. All the magical mist generated by the shelling was quickly dispelled, and all traceable magical traces were forcibly erased.

Retaliatory shelling followed.

However, the shells hit a noticeable location – they were nearly a kilometer away from the Third Artillery Regiment's position. Yet the effects of the magical explosion were equally astonishing; the shells almost leveled a small hill, and the nearby snow scattered everywhere.

"Hey, if you ask me, the crystal cannonballs are more powerful!"

One of the army mages clearly disliked the new crystal cannons. He complained to the artillery officer beside him, "Even though the plainsmen missed, look at that, that's the power a cannonball should have..."

"The value of that one shell is equivalent to your annual salary."

The artillery officer chuckled: "Besides, who said we don't have any? Wait a few more days, until the reinforcements and supplies arrive, then it'll be our turn to make our move..."

...

The second update was achieved.
Paralyzed
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(End of this chapter)