Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 24 Highland Mage
Highland Mage Corps!
Morin became excited immediately. He had learned from the information he had gained through the cheat system and the original owner's memories that magic existed in this world.

The Holy Britannian Empire was particularly accomplished in magic and sorcery.

Now, a seemingly incredibly powerful 'high-level mentor,' the commander of the Kingdom's 24th Division, and a bunch of staff officers and mage apprentices have all gathered at this small artillery position.
Although Morin didn't know why the commander of the 24th Division had suddenly gone to the front lines and was with the Brittany's highland mages.
But he knew this was an opportunity that would come once in a lifetime.

He put down the binoculars and handed them to Corporal Bowman beside him, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Bowman, do you see those officers and the guys in robes?"

Corporal Bowman adjusted the focus, observed carefully for a moment, and nodded:

“I see him, sir! This seems to be some important person, a man in a long robe, who also looks like the ‘Brittanian mage’ we were taught to identify before we set off.”

Morin: "So, are you confident you can take them down at this distance?"

Corporal Bowman was stunned; he never expected his platoon leader to have such a big appetite.

He raised the binoculars again, carefully calculated the distance, moistened his fingers with saliva to sense the approximate wind direction, and then shook his head with some difficulty.

"Sir, it's too far. It's about 400 meters. Although our rifles are accurate, without a scope we rely entirely on iron sights. At this distance, the chance of accurately hitting a specific target is not high, at most 30%."

Morin was still unwilling to give up, and at his call, several other soldiers also came over.

They were all specially selected top-notch platoon shooters, but after observation, they all said that this distance exceeded their daily training distance.

Hitting someone is considered lucky, let alone sniping a specific target.

The burning impulse in Morin's heart was almost completely extinguished by this bucket of cold water.

He forced himself to calm down.

Corporal Bowman and his men were right; the distance was too great, and the risk of missing was too high.

Moreover, in Morin's understanding, special units like 'mages' should all have some strange and unusual protective methods.

So if they didn't kill them with one shot, but instead exposed their position, then all six of them would probably be doomed.

Impulse is the devil
Morin sighed, reluctantly giving up on this tempting idea.

He finally raised his binoculars, intending to take one last look at the 'big fish'.

However, just as he pointed the camera at the seemingly leading mage, alarm bells went off in his mind.

He saw that the man in the robe seemed to have sensed something, and suddenly turned his head, his gaze shooting straight at the hillside where they were.

Although they were 400 meters apart, Morin felt as if he were being stared at by a ferocious beast, and the hairs on his body stood on end.

"Withdraw! Quickly withdraw!"

Molin scrambled down the slope, not caring about how graceful his posture was, grabbed his bicycle, and called for the others to leave.

Although Bowman and the others were confused, seeing Morin's horrified expression, they immediately sprang into action.

The group of six quickly mounted their bikes and sped off back the way they had come without looking back.

Meanwhile, on the high ground outside Seville.

Eldridge, a high-ranking instructor of the Holy Britannian Highland Mage Order, was frowning slightly as he looked at the unremarkable little hill in the distance.

Just now, he vaguely sensed someone watching him.

That gaze carried a faint hint of killing intent, which, though fleeting, was caught by his keen mental power.

Were they scouts from the National Army? Or were they those Saxons?
He was pondering whether to cast a level 3 Eagle Eye spell to scout out the situation over there.

Just then, a messenger from the Kingdom's army rushed over and whispered something to General José Sanhurjo, commander of the 24th Division.

General Sanhurho's face darkened visibly, his brow furrowed with anger. "Is it that Juan who caused trouble again?"

A voice tinged with disdain and impatience rang out from the side; it was High Instructor Eldridge.

He didn't even need to listen carefully; the messenger's whispers reached his ears clearly.

A hint of embarrassment flashed across General Sanhurho's face.

Juan, that idiot, did cause him a lot of trouble, but considering the large sums of money Juan gave him every year, he had always turned a blind eye.

But what time is it now?
With a major battle imminent, the rebels, that damned International Brigades, and the main force of the Saxons could be at the city gates at any moment, and this idiot is still causing such a scandal in the city!

“There’s been a little disturbance in the city,” General Sanhurho explained to Eldridge, barely suppressing his anger. “I’ll send men to bring that good-for-nothing back and give him a good dressing down.”

After saying this, he immediately ordered the guards around him to lead a squad of soldiers to "invite" Lieutenant Colonel Juan de Rivera and his companions back.

Not long after, several officers, leading a squad of Kingdom soldiers, arrived menacingly outside the two-story building where Juan and the others had been.

They kicked open the front door and barged in.

The captain leading the way cursed and led the way up the stairs. He just wanted to find Juan, that good-for-nothing, as soon as possible so he could go back and report to the general.

But when he stepped onto the third step, he felt as if something had gently tripped him.

Immediately afterwards, a round, black sphere rolled down from the crack in the steps to his feet, accompanied by a slight hissing sound.

The hallway was dimly lit, and the captain couldn't even see what was under his feet. He even bent down to pick it up.

Death's scythe hovered over his head for a full 3.5 seconds.

"boom!"

After a 3.5-second delay, a spherical grenade manufactured by the Saxon Empire exploded with a loud bang in the narrow stairwell.

The shockwave from the explosion and the flying debris instantly engulfed the stairwell.

The captain in charge and the two soldiers following him collapsed into a pool of blood without uttering a sound.

The soldiers behind them were also stunned by the huge explosion, their ears ringing.

When they finally managed to get up from the ground, they saw their companion lying on the ground screaming in pain, and they were so frightened that they scrambled out of the building that seemed to be devouring people.

The huge explosion on the street caused panic. The residents who were still indignant nearby screamed and ran away, while the Kingdom's soldiers nervously raised their guns and surrounded the small building.

Immediately afterwards, a highland sorcerer apprentice who had heard the news arrived at the scene with several of his attendants.

"Step aside!"

He pushed aside the soldiers blocking his way and looked through the open door at the horrific scene on the stairs, his brow furrowed.

After hesitating for a moment, he used a specific gesture in conjunction with a short incantation, and a circle of pale blue light spread out from him.

[First-Circle Spell - Life Perception]

After the spell ended, he lowered his hand and said to the tense soldiers around him, "There is no sign of life on the second floor. There are a few on the first floor, but they are in very bad condition."

Upon hearing this, several brave soldiers finally mustered their courage and rushed into the building, dragging out the still groaning wounded soldier.

The young apprentice mage, accompanied by his attendants, stepped over the bloodstains and went inside.

Looking at the three royal soldiers who had died tragically, a look of disgust flashed across the mage apprentice's face. He directed the soldiers to clear away the bodies and remains, and then went up to the second floor with the others.

In the second-floor corridor, three tightly closed doors resemble three silent mouths.

(End of this chapter)