Empire Rising: Spain

Sitting inside the carriage, Prime Minister Prim only felt a deafening roar, followed by the carriage being overturned by the shockwave of the shell explosion.

“It worked, keep going, blow him up!” Not far away, the assassin controlling the cannon showed a look of joy and quickly continued loading shells for the barrage.

Cannons and shells couldn’t be brought into Spain from France; this cannon and a few shells were obtained from the army’s logistics supplies through the painstaking efforts of Spanish nobles.

To avoid drawing attention, the cannon had a very small caliber, and only three shells were procured.

However, it seemed to be very effective. Even if Prime Minister Prim’s carriage was specially modified, it couldn’t withstand several shell blasts.

Boom!

Although the assassins intended to continue the bombardment, this cannon was not the latest product of the Royal Spanish Armory, and its firing speed was relatively slow.

After about ten seconds, the second shell was finally loaded and then launched.

Bam!

The accuracy of the second shot was noticeably worse than the first, but the blast’s shockwave and shrapnel still shattered the wooden carriage, exposing the steel plates embedded inside.

Even with the protection of steel plates, the entire carriage’s shape was deformed, and describing it as shaky was not an exaggeration.

“Fire one more shot; it’d be best if Prim gets blasted to pieces.” The leader of the assassins instructed.

Directly blowing him up would naturally be the best course, allowing them to withdraw safely. If they approached to ensure the kill with a gun, nobody could guarantee there wasn’t anyone alive inside the carriage.

Should the enemy retaliate before dying, it could mean their own demise right there.

The assassin manning the cannon immediately continued to reload, but soon noticed something was amiss.

In the distance down the street, Prime Minister Prim’s guards were already rushing over.

Bam! Bam bam!

Catching a glimpse of the assassins’ figures, the guards showed no intention of sparing them, firing continuously with their rifles, forcing the assassins to seek cover and making it impossible to reload.

“Suppress the enemy, protect the Prime Minister!” commanded the head guard while shouting at Prime Minister Prim, “Your Excellency, are you alright?”

“Damn it, what the hell is Jim doing, can’t even hold off these guards for five minutes?” The head assassin was clearly taken by surprise, pinned under cover by the opponent’s support fire, unable to move at all.

The power of the rifles was no joke; if hit, escaping would mostly mean dying anyway.

Never mind that the era’s technology couldn’t heal a gunshot wound the size of a bowl; even if such medical technology existed, assassins like them wouldn’t dare go to a hospital for treatment.

The gunshot wounds were too conspicuous; going to a hospital would be akin to walking into a trap. This also meant ensuring they wouldn’t get injured was crucial, or else in Spain they could only wait for death.

Seeing the assassins huddled under cover, the head guard issued a new order: “Thorne, take a team around, get to their rear. I don’t believe these assassins can fly away. Remember to leave one alive; I want to see which bastards dare to assassinate the Prime Minister.”

A guard beside him nodded and quietly left with a few men.

“Damn it, we must find an opportunity to withdraw. If we don’t leave now, there will be no chance to.” The head assassin knew his dire situation, and the gunfire would surely draw more support, making escape more difficult.

“Thomas, Eric, you two cover the retreat. The rest follow me, head back to the manor in the suburbs first. With two shells hitting, unless Prim has divine protection, he’s definitely dead.” The head assassin issued his orders.

Their mission was indeed to assassinate Prime Minister Prim, but that didn’t mean they were willing to sacrifice their lives. Moreover, the carriage holding Prime Minister Prim had been hit by two shells, on the verge of breaking apart, let alone the person inside.

Even if he miraculously survived, he would be gravely injured. Given this era’s medical technology, such injuries would mean waiting for death, which meant their assassination attempt had a high chance of success.

Now they only needed to consider how to retreat, which would perfectly conclude the assassination mission.

The two assassins named were visibly distressed. Although they were soldiers meticulously trained by Queen Isabella, it wasn’t stated that this would require the price of their lives.

Who could have imagined that a seemingly easy assassination would devolve into such a dire situation, knowing that staying behind meant certain death, the two assassins called by name looked ashen and pale.

“I will report to Her Majesty and ensure that your families receive due compensation.” The head assassin looked at the two named subordinates, with not a hint of compassion, making his promise unemotionally.

To protect the others’ retreat, someone surely had to make a sacrifice. These two were simply unlucky, but if they didn’t, would it have to be him, the captain, to do so?

Assassinating Prime Minister Prim was undoubtedly a great merit, and if he got back alive, he would surely receive a bountiful reward, maybe even a title.

The head assassin was no fool; he had to ensure his survival first. Only by living could he claim the reward, for in death, there would be nothing.