The Highland Mage Corps!
Molin instantly grew excited. From the information provided by his cheat and the original owner’s memories, he knew that magic existed in this world.
And the Holy Britannian Empire had extremely advanced attainments in magic and magitech.
And now, a “High Mentor” who sounded unbelievably formidable, the commander of the Kingdom Army’s 24th Division, and a whole group of staff officers and mage apprentices had all gathered on this tiny artillery position.
Molin did not know why the commander of the 24th Division had suddenly come to the forward position, or why he was together with Britannia’s Highland Mages.
But he knew this was absolutely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He lowered the binoculars, then handed them to Corporal Bowman beside him. His voice was somewhat tight with excitement.
“Bowman, do you see those officers and the men in robes?”
Corporal Bowman adjusted the focus, observed carefully for a moment, then nodded.
“I see them, sir! They seem to be important figures. The men in robes also look very much like the ‘Britannian mages’ we were taught to identify before departure.”
Molin said, “Then are you confident you can take them out at this distance?”
Corporal Bowman froze for a moment. He had never expected the platoon leader’s appetite to be so large.
He raised the binoculars again, carefully estimated the distance, then wet his finger with saliva to gauge the general wind direction. After that, he shook his head with some difficulty.
“Sir, it’s too far… Nearly four hundred meters. Our rifles are accurate, but without scopes and relying entirely on iron sights, there’s not much certainty in precisely hitting a specific target at this distance. Thirty percent at most.”
Molin was still unwilling to give up. At his beckoning, several other soldiers gathered over as well.
They had all been specially selected as the best shots in the platoon, but after observing, they all said that this distance had already exceeded their usual training range.
Hitting a person would already be good luck, let alone sniping a specific target.
The hot, restless impulse in Molin’s heart was almost completely doused by this bucket of cold water.
He forced himself to calm down.
Corporal Bowman and the others were right. The distance was too great, and the risk of missing was too high.
Moreover, in Molin’s understanding, a special unit like “mages” should all have some strange and unusual protective measures.
So if one shot failed to kill them and instead exposed their position, then the six of them would probably have to leave their lives here.
Impulsiveness was the devil.
Molin sighed and could only give up that tempting idea in frustration.
He raised the binoculars one last time, intending to take another look at this “big fish.”
However, just as he aimed the lens at the mage who seemed to be the leader, alarm bells rang loudly in his heart.
He saw that the robed man seemed to have sensed something. He suddenly turned his head, his gaze shooting straight toward the hillside where they were.
Though they were four hundred meters apart, Molin felt as though he had been locked onto by a ferocious beast. Every hair on his body stood on end.
“Withdraw! Withdraw now!”
Molin scrambled and rolled down from the top of the slope, no longer caring whether his posture looked good or not. He grabbed his bicycle and called for the others to leave.
Although Bowman and the others did not understand what was going on, when they saw Molin’s expression as if he had seen a ghost, they immediately sprang into action.
The six of them quickly mounted their bicycles and fled madly back the way they had come without looking back.
At the same time, on the high ground outside the city of Sevilla.
Eldritch, High Mentor of the Holy Britannian Highland Mage Corps, was frowning slightly as he looked toward an utterly ordinary little hillside in the distance.
Just now, he had faintly sensed a gaze spying on him.
That gaze carried a trace of killing intent, barely present, and though it vanished in an instant, it was still captured by his keen spiritual power.
Could it be scouts from the National Army? Or those Saxons?
He was considering whether to cast a third-ring spell, Eagle Eye, to investigate the situation over there.
But just then, a messenger from the Kingdom Army hurried over and leaned close to General José Sanjurjo, commander of the 24th Division, to report something in a low voice.
General Sanjurjo’s expression darkened at a visible speed, his brows filled with anger.
“Is it trouble caused by that Juan again?”
A voice tinged with contempt and impatience sounded from beside him. It was High Mentor Eldritch.
He did not even need to deliberately listen; the messenger’s whisper had clearly entered his ears.
A trace of embarrassment flashed across General Sanjurjo’s face.
That idiot Juan had indeed caused him no small amount of trouble, but for the sake of the large sums of money the other man offered him every year, he had always turned a blind eye.
But what time was it now?
A great battle was imminent. The rebels, that damned International Brigade, and the main force of the Saxons might arrive beneath the city walls at any moment. Yet that idiot was still causing such a scandal in the city!
“A small disturbance has occurred in the city,” General Sanjurjo explained to Eldritch, suppressing his anger. “I will send someone to bring that worthless fellow back at once and discipline him severely.”
With that, he immediately ordered the guards beside him to lead a squad of soldiers and “invite” Lieutenant Colonel Juan de Rivera and his companions back.
Before long, several officers led a squad of Kingdom Army soldiers and arrived aggressively outside the two-story building where Juan and the others had been earlier.
They kicked open the front door and charged in roughly.
The captain leading them cursed as he rushed up the stairs. He only wanted to drag out that good-for-nothing sack of wine Juan as quickly as possible so he could return and report to the general.
But when his foot landed on the third step, he felt as though something had lightly tripped him underfoot.
Immediately afterward, a round black sphere rolled out from the gap in the stairs to his feet, accompanied by a faint “hiss.”
The stairwell was dimly lit, and the captain did not see clearly what was beneath his feet. He even lowered his head and prepared to bend down to pick it up.
The Grim Reaper’s scythe hung above his head, remaining there for a full 3.5 seconds.
“Boom!”
After the 3.5-second delay ended, a spherical grenade manufactured by the Saxon Empire exploded with a thunderous roar in the narrow stairwell.
The blast wave and flying shrapnel instantly swallowed the entrance to the stairs.
The captain in the lead and the two soldiers close behind him collapsed limply into pools of blood without even a groan.
The soldiers behind them were also stunned senseless by the enormous explosion, their ears buzzing.
When they finally managed to climb up from the ground and saw their companions lying there screaming, they were so frightened that they scrambled and rolled out of this man-eating building.
On the street, the huge explosion triggered a wave of panic. The residents nearby, who had still been full of indignation, screamed and fled in all directions, while the surrounding Kingdom Army soldiers nervously raised their guns and encircled the small building.
Soon after, a Highland Mage apprentice who had rushed over upon hearing the news arrived at the scene with several of his attendants.
“Move aside!”
He pushed away the soldiers blocking the way and looked through the open front door at the miserable scene by the stairs, his brows tightly furrowed.
After hesitating for a moment, he made specific hand gestures and recited a brief incantation. A ring of pale blue light spread outward with him at its center.
First-ring spell—Life Detection.
After the spell’s effect ended, he lowered his hand and said to the tense soldiers around him, “There is no life presence on the second floor. There are a few on the first floor, but their condition is very poor.”
Hearing this, several bolder soldiers finally mustered the courage to rush into the building and drag out the wounded who were still groaning.
The young mage apprentice also brought his attendants with him, stepping over the bloodstains on the ground as he walked inside.
Looking at the three Kingdom Army soldiers who had died miserably, a trace of disgust flashed across the mage apprentice’s face. He directed the soldiers to clear out the corpses and remains, then went up to the second floor with everyone else.
In the corridor on the second floor, three tightly shut doors were like three silent mouths.